D Gray man: The Sun, The Stars, and Time's End
by Yoshimoto Trigen
Summary: Allen has faced the end of his life numerous times; what will he do, now that he faces the end of the world itself? Sure, it is easy to fight alone, but how will he fair against it all?
1. Chapter 1

New Orleans is a quaint city. Placed upon the Mississippi River, upwards from the Gulf of Mexico where ships sail and steam inwards and outwards of the continent of America. It held dominance as one of the largest cities on record in the nation of its allocation, but was steadily losing its dominance and resiliency against the insurrections of the new industrial economies of the western and northeastern regions of the United States. There were various attempts to re-assert its popularity and population density reign over all the other states, but these were to no avail. It was a slippery slope down, but New Orleans knew how to ride it with its own particularly Franco-Spaniard-Americana multi-ethnical style. The streets were bustling with New Orleanians and other Americans alike, enjoying the wonderful day that was natural for cities near water-coastlines: the reign of rain. The blue skies were clouded to the point of almost night-time in what seems to be an attempt by Mother Nature herself to intimidate the good-spirits of the city into hiding in their homes and businesses like good, little New Orleanian should. They did not feel this resolution in their hearts, however. Against this was the contrast of five travelers in strangely retro clothing. All others in the crowd wore big hats with stuffed figs, small hats with hummingbirds, straight hair and curly hair, brazier sack coats and frock coats along with trousers of all shapes and sizes being complimented by top hats. These differing figures decided to style themselves with simplistic clothing's of hooded robes that were woven with pressed leather. These, as well as their shirts or jackets or any other pants they had seemingly obtained were not marked with any specialized letters or symbols, but they seemed to move together like a unit. A very closely-knit family, it would seem.

The fifth hooded figure, the last in the procession, called forth to the front of the line. "How's everyone holding up? I cannot see a single thing from back here." The silhouette's cowl seemed to slip back by itself as the person's leather, Oriental ornamented boots were slapping against the ground with a seemingly dictated stride. This was an opposite to his voice, which was laced with a German dialect with his English language, and was almost overly optimistic with a touch of thoughtfulness. A tanned right hand moved up, revealing itself from the robe's sleeve, and pulled the cowl right back over his young, yet matured features.

A voice called from the front of the line, in the first position leading the pack on the trek. She said to the previous, "You must be pretty dry back there, Ottoman, if you're so cheerful enough to ask us about how we're doing." The voice paused with the continued clacks of basic footwear upon brick-stone, either from her compatriots or from the river of strangers around them that paid either some attention or not at all to them. Then, she perked up her continuation by asking, "I just realized, if you're dry enough to stay back there with your good friend, perhaps you can take up the front with the map of this city and try and navigate us to the nearest hotel? You would do it with a lot more enthusiasm, I can guarantee that." The woman's clothing was tightly kept, to the point of spick and span besides the mud they traveled through springing forth. She seemed to maintain a plainly monotone and righteous disposition, her personality strictly professional at the moment through the lightning and wind. The tone of the cynicism was in good humor, though, revealing a hidden friendliness behind her Spartan attitude.

Another feminine voice giggled two behind the one in the front, while a second voice piped up from directly behind the woman in the front, although it was masculine. "Why won't you let me use the map? I was the one who found it." His voice was soft and apprehensive. He seemed to be more concerned about the surroundings of the city than about the current direction they were going. He looked at people, cloth, building, and even the cobblestones like they were different things to him. Foreign like an alien reality far off from his own. He had a slight British accent to his, although that was slightly muddled with by a minuscule eastern Asian regional accent.

The woman responded with a slight scoff, retorting "That would be a fantastic suggestion, Yoshi, but here's the thing: the last time I let you argue where we were going and even follow you, you led us to a town in the middle of some barren state in this God forsaken country. That would've been fine, but when we got there, we found a rejuvenating spa open for business." She tilted her head back, revealing the face of a young woman with black hair. "Do you remember what you had done there? Why I will never give you the god-damn map again?"

'Yoshi' sighed, raising its arms up in contempt and exasperation. "It was an accident, I promise you that! I have apologized time and time again, but you will not forgive me! Dairu was the one who pushed me through the door as a joke, but he has told me that he did not expect me to go into _your_ room!"

In another retort, "You practically stormed into the room, gun-ho to look at Sami and I while we were relaxing in the bath. Do you even realize the implications of that?"

Once again 'Yoshi' had to reply, this time his voice laced with confusion and desperation. "I have been told that it is improper to walk in on a woman, so I would never do it by my own choice! That, as well as that it is best to forgive one for the complications of the situation at hand due to the ever-expanding notion of the moment! What is the matter, if I had been improper just once?"

The woman and the other girl in the group laughed. "'Improper'? What you did is called 'lechery', the very same thing that is inside those books that you keep managing to find in every town, borough, city, nation and spa we come across! And the only way you learned about that 'teaching' is because you just happened to walk into schools by random chance and managed to fit in with the rest of the students. You didn't mean to learn anything, but you did; no we have to live with it." This caused the tanned Ottoman in the back of the line to gain a slick smile under his hood, giving a small chuckle. The black-haired woman with the smooth yet stern features spawned a sigh of relief that was to be lost among the rain-drops and peoples around her. "Well, at least we won't have to banter in the pouring rain anymore. We've found a hotel." She pointed ahead towards a relatively modest inn with two floors of housing, brick foundations and plenty of window view.

The girl, whose name could be assumed as 'Sami' due to the fact that she was laughing along with the black-hair in the front, the grumbling boy that gave no fundamental differing personality trait besides a constant, nonsensical grumbling that was not even in the same language as the four other peoples' and the Ottoman walked into the hotel. The grumbling boy was the shortest of them, while the Ottoman was the tallest; the black-haired girl was closely behind, the 'Yoshi' right on her level, and Sami being the second shortest but still taller than the incomprehensible boy. All three of the entering people did not slow down to enter the lighten building. The tanned boy took off his cowl, revealing his wise, brown eyes and wily smile adorned by a head of black hair. The Sami girl took off hers to reveal a bright-eyed eastern Asian girl of just about sixteen years, a smile seemingly permanently set in stone upon her face. The small boy was a light-skinned child with a silent and an arrogant stare that spelled out, emotionally, "Do Not Bother Me".

Dairu sighed and allowed himself to take out a wallet of assorted paper money, counting through the American dollars. He looked up from the colorful paper to the darkness of the outside. There, the black-haired woman and the boy she was arguing with were waiting patiently in the rain, looking right back at him. The Ottoman shook his head lightly and turned his gaze quickly at the light-hearted but awkward conversation of the small boy and Sami. He looked back and held up his hand with four fingers held up. _Four._

The black-haired girl sighed and looked to Yoshi with a softer tone, and tried to begin to say something before she was held up by the boy's hand. He nodded in silent agreement to the point. "I'll stay out for tonight, Yoko. Just try and avoid any conversation about it, like always."

Yoko shook her head in disagreement, trying to convince him. "No, Yoshimata. You are _not_ taking this one; you have already taken the fall five times in a row. You may have the basic concept of how to be a gentleman, but there's to a certain point on where you should accept that role."

Yoshimata gave her a warm smile of comforting, and waved his hand out to the hotel lobby. "No. I'm doing this as a friend. I am _your_ friend and theirs. We barely have any money, and we both know that I'm used to being outside like this. Besides, this is a wonderful night to be out!" He looked to the sky but found he had to squint to continue his random search of the rain-pelting clouds. He looked back down and walked into the lobby with broad steps, indicating his desire for her to just enter the building already. His smile was enhanced by the contrast of the light to the darkness, with the light beckoning behind him and the darkness embracing his face. His eyes are blue, now revealed by the calculated lowering of his cowl. He had slick, messy onyx-black hair that was even darker than Dairu's and a smile that seemed just as bright as Sami's.

This won Yoko over into accepting the fact that her friend was not going to accept her taking the fall of being outside for the remainder of the night and gave him a small smile of her own. She walked into the lobby right past Yoshimata and took off her hood with a greeting to Dairu, whom oversaw the paying of the room while the two leaders of the group took their rounds in mutual deliberations on candid acts. She resumed her militaristic personality within a blink of an eye and declared firmly, "Alright, kids, lets go! It's almost eleven o'clock and you all have to go to bed, right this second!"

Sami gave a small cheer to compliment the maternal-command of Yoko, and grabbed Joseph by the hand. "Come on, Joseph-kun! I want to show you how to draw a hummingbird! You know, like the one I saw on that lady's hat in the crowd?" She practically gripped his hand with the intensity of a clad-steel column, causing him to shriek and plead for assistance in a Romance language. Sami looked confused by the boy's language and turned immediately to Dairu, whom was laughing at the sight. "He's asking you to let go, and that he'll do anything you want to stop you." He winked with playfulness, "I should teach him to speak another language besides Italian one day. He hates the English language with a passion, but can understand it. Perhaps French will be his second?"

Immediately beaming with joy, Sami tugged Joseph along giggling. "Come on, let's go teach you some French!"

* * *

Yoshimata let himself watch the jubilation's at hand for their duration, but then his smile faded away to a blank stare of nothing. He turned away from the warmth and the comfort of being within the building and with his friends, and instead turned around to face the cold. He settled himself just a few steps away from the hotel so that it would be convenient for them to find him or to him to find them. The thunderclap in the sky and clouds shook him slightly by surprise, but he soon got over it. Yoshimata knew that his suffering out here would be better for them rest of his friends since they deserved to get a good night's sleep in the warmth. He knew he would never get one again, no matter how lethargic he was on the best of days. His dreams, whenever he was lucky enough to have them again, would always be populated by the screams of his paternal familiars and the laughs of demons from hell. The hell-fire that springs forth into the temple grounds would be the atmosphere of his terrors forever, and the one thing he had to go with to describe his torture was one name: The Millennium Earl. His eyelids fluttered and drooped, and he gave out one little curse that slipped through his gentle lips: "Damn you, Earl."


	2. Chapter 2

Mystique flooded the rafters of his consciousness. The beginning of this haze had its root in the canals of reality, of which he had begun to dig in his mind to bury his old life's customs. The hidden, oriental-yet-westernized halls of the Vatican Yuen Long Tutorage raised him to be the top of the Black Order's bureaucratic ranks. Just as the mention of this past was noted, the teachers with typical missionary cloths and his fellow future-colleagues of the time all lined up before him. One by one, they grew either distant to a fogged perception of mortality and the continuation of his life. However, he looked not to the shades they became, but to the glimmering light that illuminated every nightmare he had endured in both his sleep and his waking hours: his sister. She was not ready at all for the challenges that faced her in her solidarity as an Exorcist at such a young age, so she nearly lost her mind to insanity non-conformed. It had gotten so desperate of a situation that he was called from halfway across the world to the Headquarters that was built within the heart of Allier.

What he saw in those French lands not only tore his heart by the strings, but also nearly softened his resolve to go on with what he was. His sister was tied to a bed, bound by her wrists and ankles against her will; it took him practically a year to sooth her, as well as to reconstruct her conscience brick-by-brick. However, it was all worth it to see her smile again after thirteen months, fourteen days, six hours and twenty-seven minutes to the dot. That was when she was nine, all the way back in the autumn of eighteen eighty-nine. Now, she is approaching womanhood at the age of sixteen and has gone through endless years of private martial training with two pairs of boots that defy the world's gravity around them. Oh, how she learned! He himself had only witnessed his little sister perform in actual combat twice, and one had been where he would have lost his head had she not intervened.

What would have taken his head off? One of those hellish creatures known only as Akuma, that's what. He could only compare those _demons_ to some kind of industrial machinery from beyond even these modern times, and twice beyond that within itself! These abominations were made from some sort of metal that resisted firearms at the disposal of mankind's armies, even any one of its variously powered artillery divisions. With no other thought than to spread their lust for slaughter of human beings whether young or old, the abominations hailed their creation to one herdsman alone: the Millennium Earl. He represented every single thing that was evil with the world all the while having a lock-jawed, teeth-barring smile complimented by various and humongous top hats. Throughout the years he has ever known this despicable _creature_, there have been succeeding reasons as to why he should fear him and his blue skin. Oh, all the information about this tyrant of shams and corruption is arriving all at once within his mind! Images of destruction, and the corroded faces of those whom had fallen to the piercing volleys of hellish bullets the Earl's first-tier minions released upon Exorcists of both old leather and new tar; their faces grow closer and closer as if they had the mindset of apparitions within this realm of his slumbering mind, doomed to follow their condemner wherever he went. Closer, closer, and _closer-_

Komui Lee stirred. The world was a smaller place than whence he had left it a short while ago, with it now being restricted to simply some artist's miniature portrait of that nightmarish caper that stalked his dreams. A small grasping of his blind hand to the portrait's rough behind brought an elderly book from its place upon his face, and turned to see that the world was actually the way he left it: a messy office-space with piles of work that both was done already and simply not sent out, or work that would probably never be done anyways and took up space as a way to give him some strange source of solidified solace. He let the book down slightly, allowing the pages to flutter in the movement to give himself a greater view of their contents. In there were more than just quick doodles of the megalomaniac, but also of the single-caste of demon he had employed solitarily until these last two decades. This book was written in the forties by the hand of a Sir Charles Darwin, an otherwise already infamous naturalist. He, despite having little information of his own to work with when he was procured by the Order for his intelligence, correctly asserted that in the near future the Akuma would have no choice but to go under his assumed modifications of structure called 'evolution' if they were to have any hope against the Exorcists.

Komui let out a small chuckle to that thought; oh, the retelling of that meeting was as classical as any mishap he could recall on his own watch. Back in eighteen seventy-eight before his fatal illness, the good Sir had been given an order by the Catholic Church to give his expert opinion as a renowned person on the issue of the future of this holy-war. He had, of course, been forced to keep the entire story he had been told in secret in an admittedly far-fetched promise of lessening the bounds of the church's persecution of his fellows in naturalism. He was reported to have gotten into a soft-pitched argument with two members of the College of Cardinals over the probability of the Akuma's possibility of transforming to meet the challenges of the Order; it had gotten so out of hand, that one of the Cardinals stood up and declared Darwin a shame-filled heretic before storming out the room. Then, Charles turned his head with mild remorse as well as annoyance and solemnly swore to the remaining persons at the meeting that there would not only be a return-to-power that would match the annihilation brought by the Floods that destroyed the planet once before in the Bible, it would be a far larger retribution of Lucifer than could ever be predicted by even the most poignant of hell-callers. Immediately after the summoning, there were vast amounts of snickering and joking amongst many of the elderly members whom saw the elder fool as merely a blasphemer with little left but to go to his Ultimate Demise.

Their snickering and Komui's complacency with their inverse views all came to a halt with the first death of an Exorcist that was not from the normally grotesque disintegration. The poor girl's body was mangled to shreds with blood laying out of her in a similar manner of a beet that was sentenced to the hands of a rickety-handed juicer. At this time, Lenalee was only beginning to recover her constitution as a wonderful young girl of twelve, so he had no choice but to leave her in the care of the Headquarters' chef 'Jerry' while he performed the ceremonial burial for the poor girl from the ethnic Hungarian slices of the Austrian-Hungarian Empire. Hailee Braum was her name; she was just turning upon the age of nineteen when she was struck down in the streets of Florence, making her just one of the many young to die in this two-decade escalation of this holy-war.

Komui stirred from his drowsed perceptions and looked upon the office once again. There was nothing here but emptiness and void-abide, and it was depressing about how silent it was. He leaned himself up from his chair to take a stroll out into the vastly unlit, gothic hallways of the Headquarters. The decorations and make of the walls varied from each section that were either originally upon the old cathedral or added when this pious building was reclaimed by the Vatican for the Black Order after the Millennium Earl's vicious assault. Even though that memory of decimation was nearing a month old, it was remaining a centerpiece in his chronic nightmares that haunted him on the darkest of nights. There was only one down-side to forgetting and moving on from the attack: he would also lose the memory of the untimely deaths of some of his closest colleagues. The man-power shortage within the entire ranks in the Order itself was devolved into something far worse than before; it came to the point that some parts of the shorter-ends of the organization were chopped off entirely in favour of the Headquarters that supported them all as a sort of principal hive-mind. Even within the new hallways, he could smell the blood of yester-so as if it rested upon his clothes to this day. Haunting him, _haunting him…_

"Hello, Chief. What're you doing up so late?"

The sudden beckon of an Anglo-Australian accent rescued his mind from the darkness that threatened to drown him completely. With a turn of his body and a side step a way's away, Komui saw his assistant Reever Wenham standing in a lax manner, his blonde hair all ruffled about as if he had just gotten out of bed. However, the small stains of chemicals and oil reported a different story to the Chief Director's intuition. "I just wanted to look about before I go back to bed." He returned Reever's question right back to him.

Reever nodded in miniscule understanding, sipping from his coffee cup an old brew from the main cafeteria. "Oh, just tinkering with the HAT-Project; I forgot to install some necessary gears this afternoon and I didn't want to forget them." The benevolent deputy waved towards the sometimes-massive stains on his white lab-coat, referring to how his modifications went. "We'll have it down eventually."

The Chief Director gave a solemn nod, feeling almost out of place in the world without his signature beret adorned upon his head. With a small stride he was upon a beautifully crafted window of violet, green, and teal decorating-tiles and clear glass looking two-stories down to the forest below. "Do you think it will be ready by the time we need it to be? We can't afford to keep him there for very long; the meeting should have been decided three days ago, and we'll receive instructions any time now."

A remorseful sigh reached Komui's ears from Reever, about two metres away. "It'll be done when it's done, we can't rush this even for a second. The Hyper-Aquatic-Transportation vehicle absolutely can_not_ fail in the middle of transit. When we brought the Science Department together to draw the schematics for this project, we all agreed that this would be a double-edged sword in case of a catastrophic failure: ample storage compartments and other weighted antiquities were either scaled down or eliminated entirely for the addition of innovative technology." There was a scoff of irony in his voice as the man reflected upon what he just said. "'Innovative technology'; half of these things would be in the public already if we hadn't intervened. They would have provided for faster engines, reserved consumption of fuel, and even camouflage for ships on the battlefield. Instead, they're being holed up in vaults for 'what if?'s and 'why not?'s." Reeveer tilted his head towards his boss, muttering, "It's a waste if you ask me."

Oh, Komui knew full well about how Reever felt about this situation. Even from the first day back in the old Headquarters when the pack ratting of inventions and new technologies was made evident to him, Reever still put his foot down in protest. He disapproved fully of the concept of stunting the progress of society as a whole, especially in the areas of medical-science. The specifics of the retardation grew long and tiresome to recall, but all the Australian could describe it as was gross overcompensation for the Order's members to survive in luxury. The Chief did not try to personalize the issue and instead tried to look forward with a trusting edge upon the Inventive Promise, which gave a solemn word to allow either the living inventor or the ancestor of whom to legally market either the ideas or the inventions that were 'confiscated' by the Vatican. It was either that or complete and utter defrauding of their life's work as cockamamie tripe by undermining them through hired naysayers; such is a typical tactic by what could be described as the ultimate reactionary force of the modern era. Komui gave a sigh of exhaustion and responded, "It is not my job or yours to be so concerned about that. I know you're against it because you've told me a million and one times now." He started to reinitiate their walk by slowly moving himself forward once more; thankfully, Reever went along with it and fell into line.

* * *

They reached a solemnly located balcony upon the fifth floor of the cathedral's towering monolith. It definitely was an endearing night to simply stare off into the distance: the seemingly unending stretches of forests inclined a naturally forming slope that provided a sort of watch-out for miles. Reever seemed to be worn out by their midnight travel so far up the building. He gave out a small yawn to indicate his wishes to take his leave of their mutual overlooking if the landscape, and looked with sagging lids to his boss. Komui noticed at first-yawn and second-eyes, so he subsequently let him go with a dismissing but still sincere 'good-night'. So, now he was set with the stars in the ocean of unknowing above, surrounding in seemingly huddled masses around their matriarch within the Moon. Oh, how he envied those celestial bodies: they were not cursed with the mission of sending their sister to clandestine holy-wars against an unfathomable creature, nor were they besieged by the existential questions of intelligent men with all the time to use in the world but none of the permission to do so. Instead, the stars merely had to look down towards the fray in an almost mocking fashion and to disappear when their dark spectacle was through, with the moon sometimes staying behind to greet the sun in its own slow revolution around this confusing ball of dirt, blood and mucky water.

The arrival of a smaller being than he was not lost to Komui; he did not even have to turn to know whom it was, for their presence was already so evident as it had been before. "Good evening, Bookman."

A few small steps of lightly soled shoes clicked as the smaller man came forth. He was wrinkled all over his one-meter and a half tall Egyptian-birthed body, yet managed to let out a sort of sphere of inner strength that only seemed wizened and bolstered by his age. It was with his eyes that this power was emitted as a piercing gaze from within two dark cylindrical disks of make-up; even now, in the darkness, those dark circles of black powder surrounding his two eyes were only expanding the amount of intrigue they had. "And good evening to you, Director; Lavi and I have just returned from our mission within the Isle of Mann. We did not find anything of note, and managed to return after landing just yesterday." He gave a sort of nod to a point two stories down from their stand on the balcony.

In the window below, Bookman's protégé Lavi was slumbering in exhausted peace. The moonlight just barely lit him up, showing his arms flayed out upon the light blue bedspread as he slumbered in his sort-of-light fitting under-clothes. Even in his sleep, the student continued to wear that eye-patch that wrapped around his red-haired head and covered his right eye. While Bookman presumably was able to see it with clarity despite his age, Komui struggled while squinting to even catch a glimpse. Despite this, he still replied, "So I see." He turned from that wall of the cathedral and instead looked up to the moon above. A small sigh, "Before you left, you told me that you needed to discuss something of grave importance. What was it?"

The wind whisked against them as their hair lifted into the breeze. This seemed to provide a small pause for Bookman to compile the necessary thoughts, which he slowly let loose with his gravely voice. "It would be advisable for you to not rely upon our services beyond the year of nineteen-hundred, if your war is to carry upon to that point. I cannot say if we are to completely abandon your cause, but I think it is my duty to warn you of this before anyone else." He blinked once to swallow the gravity of the situation to give himself bearings to continue forward with what seemed to be a large professional confession. "There is war of possibly larger physical implications brewing upon the horizon; my increasing absences are related to them, but it has become clear that I can no longer hide the reality of the situation from you."

_Definitely not what I had thought at first; _the sudden bluntness of the admittance shocked him to say the least. "Where will it take place?"

"It is not where, but more as 'where not'. At the rate as to it is evolving through an intricate web of alliances and malcontent, it threatens to become a war that is so great that it could consume the world with chaos, fear, and distraught." He turned to his Chinese counter-part, staring into him with intent. "I apologize for comparing the two, but I believe that this war will be even greater than the one we are fighting at the moment. Thus, I _must_ suggest that you should be prepared for our eventual leave."

In a sort of nervous chuckle and an equipped smile, Komui gave a small observation to alleviate the mood. "Ah, you say it is the war that 'we' are fighting? You told us when you first arrived those many years ago that the Bookmen and the Black Order would never combine their goals. What is with this 'we' business?"

He was victorious, for Bookman gave his own smirk in admission. "That is true; I am glad you caught that for me, my young friend." The older man lowered his head in humility and muttered in jest. "Perhaps we should just stand here for a little longer and let the moment come? It will not be until four years or so until Lavi and I must leave, so we shall simply be as we were until then." He became silent and, in his own way, remorseful.

Komui readjusted his small-framed glasses and nodded in return. "Agreed." And so, the night illuminated the two compatriots as they allowed themselves to be absorbed by those spectators in the stars. Their two worlds would be separating in the future, but hopefully the bonds of the battles they fought with each other would tie them forever. _Hopefully._


	3. Chapter 3

**Oh my god. I got up to chapter three? SH*T, THIS MEANS I'M COMMITTED TO THIS NOW!**

The door to an inn was kicked wide open, flying on its hinges and smacking against the stone wall. Yoko steps in, and stretches. "Alright, Yoshi. We're here." Yoshimata stepped in, and looked around. A standard lodge for five people, with all you could ask for: two bathrooms, five beds, a kitchen area, and so on.

Yoshi walked around on the inside, and grinned. "You've gotta hand it to the Americans, they sure do know how to treat visitors like home. I wonder if that's how they won their independence."

"Yeah, you moron, they invited the British army into their lodges and won their independence by bribing them with bad tea; that's _definitely_ how it happened." Yoko rolled her eyes, exasperated by the mans' childish act. "Go get your nap, we'll go get Dairu and Joseph; who knows how much debt they've caused, those two sticks of explosives..." She walked out, expecting Sami to follow in suit.

However, Sami stopped half-way, and turned back at Yoshimata. "Yoshimata-san, when do you think we'll finally learn to control our powers? We want to use them for good, but so far, they've only caused destruction." Her eyes were filled with question, and Yoshimata couldn't resist answering her. _Never leave a lady with questions._

Yoshimata sat on the bed, and rubbed his head. "When? I'd say when we get time again in a field, or a wasteland, so we don't hurt anything. But what we really need to do... is find people with the same powers as us. The last time we exposed our powers, people yelled 'Akuma! Akuma!' like we were monsters. After some digging up, we found out that Akuma are monsters that feed off of fear and anguish and pain. We need to make sure we are _never_ the cause of it. Do you understand where I'm coming from, Sami?" He leaned forward, a large piece of black hair falling in front of his face, resting near the top of his nose.

Sami thought about what Yoshimata said for a few seconds, and nodded. "Hai, Yoshimata-san!" She said, bowing.

"Sami-chan, remember: Speak English, it'll help us communicate with the locals more. They hate it when we speak Japanese. You can keep the honorifics, but just speak English. 'kay?" Yoshimata smiled, bringing up a thumbs up in approval.

"Okay!" She agreed, now she was excited, doing her own thumbs up.

"Sami, cm'on already! They've probably eaten enough food to starve this town already! Lets go!" Yoko yelled from outside.

"Coming, Yoko-oneesan!" She called outside the door, and ran out. "Get good rest, Yoshimata-san!" And she closed the lodge door.

_How in the hell can she still be that estatic? What, is she hyped up on coffee or sugar or something?_ he wondered in his mind, smiling and chuckling to himself, humoring himself on different things. He took off his partially-soaked and hooded cloth; less then a cloth then a robe; he took off his shoes, and he took his shirt off. He moved his sick self over to the bed, and allowed himself to slid inside of the covers, feeling relief. _Take me, sweet slumber..._ and he drifted off to a dream, falling into a past adventure of him and his friends, with a small grin on his face.

"Yeah, alright! I get to stay with Lenalee!" Komui Lee yelled, and did a preioete into the room. "I get to stay with Lenalee!" He sang, dancing throughout his office.

_That man is definetly not right in the head..._ Reever muttered. He sat down, and drank more of his cola. "Alright, lets go over what happened over the month." He rubbed his chin, and said. "Alright, at the beginning of the month... we finished unpacking from the last headquarters. We got most of the personel from their to transfer over here, while some are staying behind to mop it up." He rubbed the hairs on his chin, muttering to himself to jog his memories.

"There was an accident in the Creation sector of the Science Department, remember? Two chemicals were mixed when they shouldn't have had, and produced a huge amount of green slop. It took us a whole week to clean that mess up, and we still can't get the smell to go away." Johnny pointed out, since he was one of the people assigned to that messy job. _How could anyone forget that horrible stench?_

Jerry scratched his head, and adjusted his glasses. "We lost several Finders during a mission to Russia, but the Exorcists managed to bring back an Innocence. That was..." He pushed up his glasses to focus. "The tenth of this month?"

Reever nodded. "Yeah, a friend of mine barely got out of that mission. Cocky bastard..." Reever sighed and shook his head, and Jerry laughed.

Komui nodded, and took down the report, listening keenly for the first time in a long time. Suddenly, he stopped writing, and he squinted. Lenalees' face came back into his mind, and he just thought of something. _She hasn't been smiling a lot lately... or not as she used to. Is there something wrong?_ He looked back and forth to the laughing Jerry, the relaxed Reever and the grinning Johnny, and he spoke up. "Did something happen to Lenalee over the past month?"

Reever grunted, exasperated. "Oh for the love of _god..._"

Komui held up his hands, and studdered. "W- Wait! It's not what you think! I just noticed this... she has been pretty down for the past few weeks." He looked to Johnny, who, in his own surprise, was nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, come to think of it... Lenalee hasn't been bringing coffee for the Department when it goes on overtime as much anymore, and she usually looks bored or... distant." He snapped his fingers, trying to reclaim a memory. "Reever, didn't you say that Lenalee stopped bringing us coffee about four weeks ago?"

Reever stopped leaning on his chair and sipping his cola. "Huh... yeah, you're right. Does anyone remember what happened about four weeks ago?" Jerry shrugged, Johnny was scratching his head, and Komui was pretty much blank. "Did a friend of hers leave on a long mission? Did she lose something of close value?"

Jerry brought up a clipboard, and looked at the list of departures in the last few weeks. "Huh. Well you look at that, no wonder we were all pretty much in a slump for the past few weeks. Allen Walker got vacation time for about a month, and was told to rest in..." Jerry's eyes moved down a little bit. "...Jamaica."

"Ah! That lucky little kid! I wish _we_ could get some of that vacation time. But, no. The Science Department is always on, twenty-four-seven." Johnny laughed. "So, when is Allen due back?"

Reever got up, and looked over Jerry's shoulder. "This thing says he was due back about three days ago. Did any of us see him?" He looked around at the table.

Everyone was in a silence.

"I think we should request that a team be sent to go pick up Allen. Perhaps Lenalee, Kanda, and Lavi?" Komui inquired.

Reever shrugged, scratched his chin and nodded. Johnny gave a thumbs up, and Jerry grinned. "Yeah, we need that boy back here, I'd have to say. We've all been bored without 'im."

"So, it's settled. I'll go send a golem later to request the pick-up. For now, lets continue this report."

On a beach somewhere, someone was laying in the sand. Eyes closed, he was laying in the suns rays peacefully. However, his nose twitched all of a sudden, and he sneezed. He rubbed his nose, and looked around. "Huh... maybe someone was talking about me?" He scratched his head, and simply laid back down.


	4. Chapter 4

**You can't stop the fanfiction machine**

**It was always burnin' since the world's been turnin'**

It's night time on the same day. Lenalee Lee, Yu Kanda, and Lavi were all summoned to Kumoi's office. Lenalee met Lavi in the hallway and they walked the rest of the way, Lavi trying to engage in casual conversation. Kanda was inside already, being as punctual as ever. Komui was sitting at his desk, for once not sleeping. He seemed to have a wry grin on his face, playing with a strand of his black hair. A knock came from the outside, and Lenalee's voice came through. "Can we come in?"

"Yes, please, come in!" Komui called, almost losing himself to his excitement. _If we can get Allen back soon, then Lenalee might cheer up! That means she'll be back to normal!_

Lenalee opened the door, and she walked in, followed by Lavi whom closed the door behind them. "So, what's this summons about, Director?" Lavi asked, taking a seat in a chair.

Komui nodded, and brought down a map of the Caribbean's. "This summons is a mission for you three. This is more of a... retrieval of a person instead. This person has been on vacation for about a month, but he has been away for three days over his limit." He points to Jamaica. "So, we'll be sending you to this island, where you will search head and toe for him, and once you find him, we'll contact you via golem for instructions."

Kanda sighed. _Great. I'm a pick-up boy now. What's worse, I'll be with these two._ "What will be our transportation?" Kanda inquired, a scornful look plastered on his Japanese face. He was taping his Mugen sword, very much trying to relief his anger without having to slice the table, or Komui, in half. Clearly, it was not working.

"Your transportation will be a prototype boat with a special type of device installed on it. It serves as a driver, and it can bring you to the Caribbean in about two days. Don't worry, we've tested it thoroughly in the Mediterannean Sea and the English Channels. You will find it at the dock, where there will be Reever. He'll be the pilot of the ship, since he's had the most experience with it." He pulled back the map of the Caribbeans, and he brought down a picture of the ship that they'll use. "Any questions?"

Lavi shrugged, and Kanda kept his cast-iron gaze at Komui, seemingly piercing through him with his eyes. Lenalee sort of raised her hand. "Brother, who is the person who we will be bringing back?" _Ah, yes._

Komui laughed, and he leaned forward. "It's Allen Walker." He grinned widely.

"Really?!" Lenalee beamed. A smile, a _real_ smile, came across her face, holding her hands together, barely keeping her excitement. _YES!_ Komui cheered in his mind. _She's getting better already!_

Lavi blinked in surprise, remembering his friend and his absence.. Kanda's frown deepened to a point where Komui was afraid he was going to be killed merely by Yu's rage, so he kept his distance in the chair he was sitting in. "So, are we all clear on the mission?" Lavi and Lenalee nodded, all smiling. Kanda's innate annoyance and outward scowl was an answer to him:_ Fuck. No. _

"Well, then. I guess you'd better go now! Have a safe trip, Lenalee!" He smiled, and drank some of his coffee from his Yoshi cup, waving.

Lenalee got up, and waved. "Bye, brother!" And almost ran out the door in excitement. Lavi nodded in farewell, and left the room. Kanda got up, and kept a solid grip on his Mugen.

"Easy, Kanda. I know you don't like Allen, but you'll just have to make due with it." Komui finally chidded the teen, waving his finger and drinking his coffee. Kanda stormed out of the door, and closed it solidly with a firm smack in its' hinges.

_Please, keep getting better and better, Lenalee. I hate seeing you so down._

"God, if we leave that guy alone for even a day, we find him passed out in the road. What will he do if the group all splits up?" Yoko sighed, rubbing her head. They were almost to the diner now, and Sami finally caught up. She slowed down before in the road to start drawing a picture of a cloud in the distance.

"Split up? What do you mean? Sami chimed, concerned.

"Well... I guess we won't all be a group forever... I dunno, it's just a feeling. Besides, you'll probably come with me, right? Dairu will probably stay with Joseph. Besids, he's probably the only one who can keep that maniac from eating everything in sight. Yoshimata probably wouldn't care." Yoko replied, grinning.

Sami laughed, "Yeah, Yoshi-san would probably just lay down for a nap, and wouldn't care if Joseph ate him whole!" The two laughed, and continued on to the diner.

Inside the inn, Yoshimata suddenly sneezed.


	5. Chapter 5

Yoko opened the diner door to the diner. A sort of wooden old tavern, there were a number of people inside. However, she could find her AWOL friends in an instant; they were eating a large amount of food. _God, they still drag attention to themselves..._She quietly walked behind them, and reached over Dairu's shoulder. She grabbed a croissant from his plate, and Sami stole an apple from Joseph.

"'Eh? Wuht?" Dairu was surprised and half full of food in his mouth. He turned around, and met Yoko and Sami's gazes. "Oh.. sgmit…" He swallowed the food, and waved. "'ello, Yoko. Good morning, Sami. Care for some breakfast?"

"I thought you were going to go and stop Joseph from wasting so much food…" Yoko almost growled.

"Well, uh… are you mad, Yoko?" Dairu asked. Yoko was very scary when she was mad.

Yoko merely shook her head and sighed, and slammed Dairu's head with the croissant. Dairu was sprayed with chocolate, completely messing his hair and the top of his clothes. "Agh!" He yelled in surprise, trying to get the filling out.

Yoko picked up another croissant from the plate, and smirked. "Now you owe me another croissant." She bit into it, and looked to Sami and nodded. Sami nodded back, and hit Joseph on the back of the head lightly with her book. Joseph stopped eating, and put his forks down, mumbling to himself.

Yoko pulled Dairu's seat back, and showed her hand, as a signal to get up. He, resigning, got up and allowed her to sit down. Joseph followed as well, not wanting to tempt either girls rage. Yoko took out two more croissants, and handed one to Sami. Sami giggled, and began eating the treat.

Dairu shook his head and chuckled. _Eh. Ladies first._ He walked over to the counter, and knocked on the wooden top. "Excuse me, I need a towel..."

"Two dollars." Grunted a voice from the back.

Dairu sweat-dropped, and gave up the fight, and reached into his pocket and pulled out two coins. A towel was thrown from the backroom, and Dairu caught it before it fell to the floor. As the cook was picking up the coins, Dairu was wiping the chocolate off his head. Intrigued, Joseph took a finger-full of the filling off of Dairu's head, and tasted it. "Cioccolato… quel gusto buon."

"Ach, che cosa sono voi che fate?! Ottenga fuori di me, Joseph!" He pushed Joseph off of him, and continued rubbing his head clean. Sami giggled from the table, and Yoko just sighed, and put a hand over her smiling mouth.

"Will you two quit fighting and finish your breakfast?" Yoko called, wiping her mouth to continue to hide her smile. Joseph and Dairu's ears perked at 'breakfast', stopping in mid-tussle, and came running for their meals.

* * *

Far away, in a distant building or even a different dimension, a big and plump being sat in a rocking chair. It rocked back and forth, knitting a sweater. "Oh, where is my darling Tyki now?" He continued knitting, wondering to himself, humming a tune.

"Tyki is out right now, Millennium Earl. I wish he wasn't, I might need help with my homework." Came a little girl's voice. He looked over, and saw Rhode Kamelot working under a lamp light at a kitchen table. "He might be at those mines he always likes to go to. Perhaps we can find him there, if you want?" She looked over to the Earl, an innocent smile on her face.

"Ah! No, no, Rhode darling. I was just wondering to myself. If you want, I could help you!" He popped out of his chair, a 'VICTORY!' headband on his forehead.

"That would be appreciated, Earl, sir." Said Rhode. The Earl jumped with glee, and landed near her, eager as a little child.

"Ah, Leroro, the Earl keeps getting distracted Leroro...!" His umbrella sighed at his chair, shaking in a fit of discomfort with Rhode.

* * *

Lenalee bottled her excitement up, and kept her composure. Lavi smiled, and hummed a tune he had heard earlier from a play he was forced to go to with the Bookman. Kanda's scowl was still dark. The trio made their way to a special dock for Black Order ships that were conscripted, or made, as they were acquiring to go on. Reever was on the dock, rubbing his head.

_Of course, I do something for him and he makes me have to go on a sea trip. At least it's to the Carribbean._ He waved solemnly, and sipped his soda-drink. _Good thing I placed some sea-sickness pills in here._He reminded himself, as the boat kept bobbing up and down, making him feel queasy. The trio approached him, and he stepped out of the boat. "Alright, so Komui has told you everything, correct? According to the Science Divisions' calculations, we should make it to the Caribbeans in about two days, if we are not halted for anything. I've gotta ask that all of you stay away from the sea, because if you get thrown off, it will be difficult to stop and come back to get you. This engine is designed to rocket our way through the ocean, in clear weather. So, do you understand? Lenalee? Lavi? Kanda?"

Lenalee nodded with a yes, Lavi smirked and lowered his head, and Kanda was still as emotional as a boulder. "Will we be leaving as soon as we arrive, Director Reever?"

"No, Kanda. We will be staying in Bermuda until we recieve a confirmation from the Black Order. Once we recieve the 'okay, go' we will take off. Now..." He looked off into the distance, and judged the wind. "I believe it's about time, so, let's get this thing going." He climbed in, and began walking for the Captain's Quarters.

Lavi hopped on, and offered a helping hand to Lenalee. She took it, and climbed on. Once she got on and thanked him, Lavi turned to Yu and offered the same hand. Kanda ignored it stonley, and barged onto the deck. He brushed past Lavi, and he made his way for the front of the ship. He took a seat, and allowed the wind to move through his hair, keeping his gaze forward.

Shrugged, Lavi turned to grinning. "Oh well. It's the thought that counts, right, Yu?" He began to walk on the deck to see across the English Channel. He gazed upon the beautiful strait of water, absorbing the majesty of a place that saw so much history, so many battles. _Kinda like the Old Panda..._ Lavi smuggly reflected, chuckling like a child.

In the Black Order Headquarters, Bookman had the sudden urge to kick the hell out of Lavi, but couldn't place why.


	6. Chapter 6

**Dairu x Joseph is the ULTIMATE PAIRING of this fanfiction. Surrender now, all ye who deny it! D:***

***Note: No, it isn't. Really. (...or could it?... -stares off into distance.-)**

Two days have passed on the trip to the Caribbean. The boat revealed a new type of technology created by the scientists in the Black Order, a new 'engine' that drove the boat to new speeds that allowed the boat to nearly glide on the sea's face itself! All three of the exorcists now understood what Reevermeant by 'stay on the boat', and they were glad he warned them. Well, maybe not Kanda, but definitely everyone else.

Reeverstopped the engine as soon as theygot within a few miles of the shore; this engine technology was merely a prototype and it was completely new to society. The scientists of the Black Order were accustomed to this endeavor; theywere made to swear that anything they created was to be used primarily and solely by the Order and for the war against the Earl. Reever leaned on the wheel, sighing and sipping his drink. _Worst pay **ever**._He reaffirmed in his mind. A sound caught his ear, and he looked onto the deck, to see Lenalee emerging from the passenger door that led to the crew cabins. _So, she's awake._He raised his hand lazily over his head, greeting her. "'ey! G'morning, Lenalee! Did you sleep well?"

Lenalee rubbed her eyes of slumber-induced tears, and yawned. She heard Reevers' greeting, and looked up with a smile. "Good morning, Director Reever. And yes, I did sleep well." She stretched a little, and after, she took out her hair bands and began to work on her hair; there was no wind out on the deck.

Reever nodded in approval, and smiled. _Great girl, she's always looking out for us. Maybe, just maybe, Komui was on to something._He looked across into the horizon, and his eyes laid upon the beach that was slowly crawling towards them as they sailed. A thought sparked in his mind, and he called once more to the deck. "Lenalee, did you see Kanda or Lavi while coming up?"

She continued to fix her hair, but multitasked and called back. "Yeah, Lavi is still fast asleep in his cot, and Kanda is mulling by his sword in a corner, why?"

Reeverblinked, and shrugged after a moment. "I guess just to know where they where, in case we needed to pass off as a ship of pirates or merchants." He paused for another sip of his drink, and continued. "We'll be to the beach in a matter of twenty minutes. I'll explain what our next actions will be once we land on the beaches."

Lenalee nodded in understanding, and looked off to the beach. Sighing, she let her mind wander for a moment. Her mind kept repeating the same things: _Is Allen alright? Why didn't he make the deadline? Did... did he get lost and get attacked? No, no! Stop with those thoughts... he's alright, I know it. She breathed in, and let out a heavy breath to release the tension in her chest._

Her actions and her growing exasperation did not escape Reever, who shook his head and put a hand through his hair. _Poor Lenalee. She's so concerned. I've gotta help her... somehow. _He decided, and hollered down, "Hey! He'll be alright, do you hear me?" Lenalee jolted in surprise, and looked up to the director. "This is Allen we're talking about. He gets lost all the time, even in the halls. He probably just lost track of the time, and let a few days slip. We'll find him, trust me."

Lenalee rubbed her eyes with her arm. "You're right, Director. We'll find him." She let herself smile again, comforted by his words.

He returned the smile, and turned back to navigating the boat. _In retrospect, I should have pushed Chief Komui for Lenalee to be escorting Allen more._ His memory of that meeting was all too clear...

"Please, for the love of God, Chief. Give Allen an escort. He know how often he gets lost! Why don't we send Lenalee with him, or something?"

Komui shook his head in defiance. "No, Director Reever. Giving Allen leave at all is a displacement of our forces. I simply cannot allow it."

Reever sweat-dropped. "No, what is your real reason, Chief?"

Komui Lee adjusted his glasses in confidence, even though being discovered. "Reever, Allen Walker is fifteen years old. He's probably had fantasies of going to a tropical place with my precious Lenalee dozens of times by now."

Reever nearly spat out his morning drink, he coughed as it was almost caught in his lungs. "Good lord, Chief! He's **British**!"

Komui refused with the resolution of a bull. "You cannot characterize them all as perfect gentlemen, section director. No is no."

Reever brought himself back, getting nauseous from the thoughts that spawned from that debate. "That man is just one maniacal closet pervert..."

The boat finally reached Bermuda and landed safely on a dock in a harbor. Lenalee was waiting patiently on the dock, after he let the boarding ramp down. Kanda merely stormed out of the bottom deck, and joined Lenalee in waiting. Reever looked at the both of them, and turned to Kanda. "Where's Lavi?"

Kanda turned his head in disgust. "He's still asleep."

Reever nodded. "Ah, well. I know how to fix that problem." He walked away from them, and disappeared under the deck for a few minutes. Lenalee was perplexed, until she saw Reever carrying Lavi up on his back. Reever promptly walked towards the edge of the boat, and let go of Lavi, effectively throwing the sleeping boy into the water.

The shock woke him immediately. "Gah!!" He nearly yelled in surprise, waving his arms to get a grip. He realized, after several seconds of panic, that he was in the water. He looked up at the boat, and yelled. "Hey! Who threw me in the water?!" He began to try and claw back on the boat, but couldn't find a grip.

"I did. You were sleeping for the whole trip, and we were about to begin the mission. You didn't respond to me prodding you and saying your name in your ear, so I guessed a refreshing dip in the warm Caribbean would be enough." Reever called from the boat. "Go over to the dock, there's a stair that you can climb to get out." Lavi did as he said, and climbed out of the water, soaking wet. Lenalee laughed, and Kanda merely gave him a moment of his glance. Reeverwalked down the boarding ramp, and was presented with the three exorcists. "Alright, according to my guess, we could probably find Allen by asking around the nearest town about him. There are probably a few locals who would remember him, since he has... well, a very stand-out appearance. We'll ask around the dock first. So, let's move." The two dry exorcists plus the one grumbling and soaking one followed, and they began their search.

For over an hour, they combed the city, until they found a man who claimed he did see someone with Allen's features: A boy of fifteen with a strange tattoo near his left eye, bone-starch white hair, British accent, and a strangely bandaged arm. The man claimed he saw the boy around the north beach, and offered to lead them there. Reever accepted, and thanked him for his services.

The four traversed through the island, carefully avoiding certain animals and plants. Lavi tried to joke to pass the time, while Kanda used his sword to cut down a tree that blocked their path. Lenalee followed at the front, while Reever stayed in the back, trying not to overexurt himself while drinking his soda. Group, all together, came out of the jungle to the north beach of the island. The man looked around, as if unsure, then realized where the direction was. "This way, please." They followed him for a few hundred yards, until they came across a sort of camp on the beach. There were supplies in neat fashion on boxes, while a tent was set up with an open entrance. A blanket was disheveled inside, along with a card deck and a lantern.

"Where is Allen?" Reever asked, and looked around. Lenalee opened the tent and looked around, and Lavi, foolishly, looked inside a box. "Lavi, what are you doing?" Reever sighed.

"I'm looking for food! I'm _starving_!" He whined, and he continued rummaging through Allens' stuff.

In the woods, a sound broke through the air. The sound of branches breaking, and a heavy crash. "What was that?!" Reever and the group ran into the jungle, following the noises. They emerged into a small clearing, and looked around. There was a strange sight to behold; several trees were knocked down, in pieces. There was also several branches broken by something that slashed through them almost cleanly, and there was a grey shirt laying on the ground. "Allen? Are you there? Come out, already." Suddenly, a tree imploded into a hundred shards of trunk and branches, falling into a storm all around the jungle. A large claw emerged from the smoke it caused, but quickly retracted.

Lavi recognized the claws, and he walked through the smoke. "Allen!"

"Huh? Lavi? What are you doing here?" The British voice in the smoke said. His arm turned back to normal, and the claw disappeared into his red arm.

"Well... we're here to, well, pick you up." Lavi said, helping to clear the smoke with his arm, and showing the way to the rest of the group. "Come here, beansprout." He tugged at the teen.

"I told you not to call me that!" The white-haired teen said. He looked up, and saw the group. "Ah! Lenalee! Director Reever!" He smiles. "Hello!"

Lenalee saw Allen, and then, somewhere, in another reality, a bunny shoots another bunny, with a loud **BANG**.


	7. Chapter 7

**I love my job.**

Allen scratched behind his head, and stood up out of his crouching position. "So.. wait, you said you're here to pick me up?" He raised his eyebrow in confusion.

"Yeah, so come along, beansprout." Kanda threw Allen's shirt at him, and turned to go back to the camp. He left his aura of scorn behind.

"I told him..." He growled, staring daggers at Kanda. He breathed in, and let his annoyance out. He picked up the shirt from the jungle sand, and he shook the sand out. "So, Director Reever..." He gulped, and scratched his nose with a childish smile. "...how long was I away?"

Reever perked up, being brought out of his own little world. He rubbed his head, and let out a long 'uh' before answering. "About... a week, maybe five days?"

Allen's grin broke into a shocked demeanor. "What?! Timcanpy, why didn't you tell me that I was away for so long?!" He nearly yelled at his golden golem, whom was in a tree chewing on a branch. He sighed, and rubbed his head. "Sorry for the trouble Director Reever, I told Timcanpy to let me know when my time was up. He probably felt like playing a _prank on_ me." He looked up at Timcanpy, whom merely gave a large, fanged grin down at him.

Reever shrugged. "It's no problem for me. I doubt Komui will care. However, we'll probably be sent on a mission very soon, so you'd better be prepared." The Science Section director went back to his soda, and continued to drink; he was obviously sweating due to the heat.

Allen nodded, and put his shirt on, covering his tanned and now slightly muscular body. He jolted slightly, and remembered something. "Ah! Lenalee, I forgot you were here! Sorry for being away so long, I hope Lavi didn't bug you that much." He gave a sort of smile, trying to apologize to her.

She nodded, smiling. "Just don't let it happen again, alright, Allen?" He nodded in agreement, and all three of them joined Kanda. Lavi, however, joined Kanda a long time ago while the group was chatting, preferring to being around 'Yu'.

Reever put a hand over his eyes and cast his gaze into the sky. The search had cost them most of the day, so the sun in the sky was beginning to lower. _If I send one now, it could reach Chief Komui before morning. _He reached into his pocket, and thumbed around for something. "Alright, everyone. I'm going to send a golem back to headquarters and establish a link to Komui to get your next mission. We'll be staying at the harbor with the dock overnight, so don't wander off from there or anything. We'll be leaving by boat probably during the night or early morning, so get plenty of rest. And Lavi, if you don't wake up again when I tell you to, I'm dropping you into the nearest and coldest river. Everyone clear?"

Allen and Lenalee nodded, Kanda kept his gaze on the ocean, and Lavi grumbled in compliance, remembering the early morning antics on the boat. They traveled back with the local man to the dock, and used their Black Order accounts to acquire a hotel room from an English-run chartered inn. Lavi went straight to bed, wanting to sleep more then anything else. Kanda took his Mugen and merely walked out of the town, prefering to be by himself until he decides to go to sleep. Reever walked away from the town, and looked behind himself, always apprehensive out of the Black Order Headquarters; especially at night. That's when Akuma were most likely to attack. Out he took a small, black ball from his pocket; the object he was fiddling with beforehand on the beach. He took a small case out of his jacket, and opened it. Inside were medical and other field tools; he took a syringe out of the bunch. He pricked his finger with the tip, and allowed the small tube to take his blood. He stopped it, and took the tool out; he put a bandage over the small wound, and decided that would do for the time being.

He held the ball up, and his gaze searched the sphere for something important. _There it is._ Reever put the syringe's needle inside of a very small hole that was barely lit by the moonlight, and he pressed down on the pump, letting his blood inside of the ball. The ball immediatly began to glow with a cyan-blue, illuminating him and about five feet away from him. Knowing it would be a trouble for the beacon to give him away, he hit the light under him, in his jacket. The ball sprouted wings, then a screen-eye; it was a golem! Its dark wings flapped, trying to get free, but he held tightly. There was a small beep; he knew that meant to administer a message-order. "This is Science Section-Director Reever Wenham, I am sending this Link Golem to Black Order Supervisor Komui Lee. Establish link to secondary Golem upon contact and confirmation." The golem beeped in acceptance, and he released it, and it began to fly. After it reached several hundred feet in the air, the golem projected itself into the sky and sped off to England. He saw the golem off all the way, to make sure it left.

Allen and Lenalee decided to rent a small raft to take a small cruise around the town, since the river was made to go all through it. He got into the boat first, and held out his hand like a gentleman for Lenalee to get in. Lenalee accepted the hand, and boarded the boat. Lenalee sat down, and Allen took the oar out and began to row. The night was very relaxing and smooth, with the small sound of crickets in the distance and fireflies in the air. There were some people out in the night, either doing every day chores or simply going to have fun. Tourist or native, this was a town for the relaxed. Lenalee looked up to Allen, and noticed something. "Ah! Allen, your hair is longer!" Allen blinked, and stopped rowing to reach behind his head. His hair _was_ longer; longer then before, and it was long even **before **the vacation.

"Ah... ah! It is!" He felt it, and it would slip through his right hand. _It's kinda fun... _He whispered in his mind, and pushed it around a little. He smiled a little, childish grin.

Lenalee sighed, and smiled as well. "Allen, don't play with your hair while you're standing up in a boat. You'll fall out."

Allen chuckled. "Alright." He left his hair alone, and restarted his rowing. They soon traveled through a spot where many fireflies inhabited, and they burst from the river's plants. Astounded, the two exorcists were illuminated by colors of light red, yellow and even green; Allen rowed slower, so Lenalee and himself can absorb this fantastic display more.

"Amazing..." Lenalee gasped, and she stood up to get a better view; she held onto Allen's shoulders for support. Allen looked backed, slightly blushing, but returned to holding them steady with the oar after a few seconds of embarrassment. After about a minute and a half, the fireflies either returned to their homes or flew off for new ones, leaving Allen and Lenalee in good moods. Allen rowed them back to the boat rental station after the display, deciding that they should get to bed so they would be ready for an emergency. The boat docked on the station, and a black man came and tied the boat to the dock; he nodded to them in thanks, "Thank you, Sir and Madame." They both nodded back to him, and they left the rental.

They walked back to the hotel, and found Reever closing the door to his room. Lavi was still asleep in his, and Kanda was in his. Not necessarily asleep, but still mulling on it. Allen escorted Lenalee to her room, and she said, "Good night, Allen."

"Uh, Lenalee, can I ask you something?" Lenalee stopped and turned back to Allen, surprised. "Uh... can I... uh, borrow something for my hair? I don't think it would be safe for me to go into battle with hair that's not tied up." He blushed in embarrassment, rubbing his chin with one of his fingers.

Lenalee blinked, and nodded. "Yes! Wait right here, Allen!" She ran into her room, and Allen stood against the wall, not wanting to intrude on anything inside. He heard a bag being unpacked, and heard Lenalee's voice. She came right out, and looked around for Allen. He got off of the wall, and looked at her hands. There was a olive-colored hairband. She held it up for him to see closely, and he did. There was a sort of swirly pattern on it, emblazoned with the same color. She looked to Allen's hair, and asked "Would you like me to put it on for you?"

Allen nodded, grinning. "Y- Yes, please." Lenalee looked inside, and only saw her bed as a good seat. She grabbed Allen's hand, and showed him inside. She showed him to the bed, and he apprehensively sat on it. Lenalee got behind him, and began to collect Allen's white hair together. Allen was blushing ever so slightly, feeling uncomfortable sitting on Lenalee's bed. He blames Cross' sexcapadal accidents, to be honest and perfectly clear. Allen felt all of his hair suddenly become firmly together, realizing the hairband was on. Lenalee adjusted the band, and put her hands through the new tail to smooth it out.

"It's done. Would you like a mirror?" Lenalee asked. Allen nodded, so she took him over to a mirror, and showed him his reflection. He turned around slightly, and saw his hair.

He jolted, and grinned widely. "Wow! It's perfect! Thank you, Lenalee!"

Lenalee smiled, and looked to a clock in the corner. "Ah, it's getting late. We should be getting to bed now. I'll see you tomorrow, if not earlier."

Allen blinked at first, but nodded after a seconds' hesitation, making him look ridiculous. "Yeah. Good night, Lenalee." He left the room, and Lenalee closed the door behind him. She leaned against the closed door, sighing with a smile on her face.

* * *

Reever leaned his ear near the crack of the door, and looked outside to make sure Allen and Lenalee were both in their rooms. Allen made it to his room, and closed his door. The Science Director sighed in relief, and closed his door. He took out another orb from his pants, and he found it was chiming slightly. _Finally, that stubborn Chief has made contact._ He pressed the orb's eye, and it activated into a golem as well. On the screen, the chief was in his pajamas, yawning slightly. "Ah, Reever! Good morning! Wait, of course, it's night there for you. Never mind, have you found Allen Walker yet?"

Reever nodded, and kept a yawn stifled. "I made sure all four exorcists got to their rooms individually, and I've kept an eye on the locals. Nothing is out of place. What is our next mission, Chief?"

Komui nodded, and picked a file up from the papers around him. _Wow, he can actually locate something in that wreckage?_ "Yes, here it is, and it's something very unusual. We've recieved reports of increased undescribable activity in Northern America, to be precise, the United States."

Reever almost gave a small start. _The United States? That's very unusual... rarely anything happens there._ "The same routine with every other place? An Innocence has been discovered?"

Komui shook his head, but continued. "The Northern American Branch has reported no findings, even after sending a team of Finders to look up on this matter. However, there are claims that a strange band of five have been walking aimlessly through town after town, and after a report of almost thirty towns visited, whenever the strangers entered the town, they began asking around about 'Akuma'. It's very strange. They could be potential exorcists without proper training; could be a trap; could be teens looking for thrills, basically anything. However, we cannot let this chance slip us by. If these reports are accurate, we could be facing **five** new Innocences', along with five new exorcists. I am sending you and the team on a mission to the city of 'New Orleans' to find them, they were last seen heading into the woods there about a day ago, from last report."

Reever nodded in understanding, rubbing his chin in curiousity. "Five new exorcists..." He whistled in exclamation, and asked one more question. "What about us? When should we leave?"

Komui rubbed his eyes, and smiled. "Give them a few hours of rest. At about six o'clock, your time, you guys should leave."

Reever nodded. _He really does care about us._ "Well, see you in a few days, Chief. And don't forget to do your work, and we won't have trouble with more reports."

The Chinese man chuckled, rubbing his eyes. "You're an orgre, Reever. Good bye." The link was cut, and the golem subsequently died on him. He placed it in his pocket, and looked to his rooms' clock. "A few hours, alright." He walked to his light, and turned it off, plunging into darkness with but a moonlight.


	8. Chapter 8

**I feel pretty.**

**Oh so pretty.**

Reever was suddenly awoken by a small, steady beat of dings from his clock by the bed. He rubbed his eyes, and turned on a light. The light showed the time to be five o'clock. He turned his head to the window, and saw it was still dark outside. _It'll have to do. Time to wake them up_. He dragged himself out of the bed, and he put a hand through his hair while he exited his room. Kanda's room was directly parallel to his own, so he knocked on his door first.

"What is it?" A stone-cold voice said after a mumble and the sound of sheets moving.

"Kanda, we've received our mission specs. Time to head to the boat." The door immediately swung open, revealing a Kanda with his usual death glare, only with some slumber added to it. He walked past Reever and proceeded to go to the stairs to exit the inn. Reever kept his distance from the stone-cold aura around Kanda, and continued to Allen's room. He knocked one the door three times, but nothing stirred in the room. Alarmed, Reever knocked again. "Allen?"

The door opened by itself it seemed, and he stepped back in apprehensiveness. A golden orb flew off the opposite side of the door. "Timcanpy? Why wouldn't Allen answer?" Timcanpy flew back into the room, and revealed Allen sleeping like a log, quietly breathing in and out. Reever sighed, and looked to Timcanpy. "How do you wake him up?" The golem subsequently flew over to the slumbering British teen, and immediately bit his foot.

Allen, surprised and in pain, yelped and jumped in his bed. "Gahh!" He grabbed his foot, and saw Timcanpy there, smiling. "What did you do that for, Tim?!" He looked up, and saw Reever standing there. "Oh, Director Reever!"

"Cm'on, Allen. We're going to go now, for the mission." Allen, not wanting to be left behind, nearly leaped out of his bed, and started putting on his exorcist uniform. "Go outside, I'm gonna get Lenalee and Lavi. Make sure Kanda doesn't kill anyone; he's exceptionally cranky now."

_Easier said than done..._ Allen gulped.

Reever walked out of the room, and down the hall to Lavi's room. He knocked on the door, and said "Lavi, if you don't come out, I'm going to throw you into the river, do you understand?" A loud thump came from the room, and bare feet ran across a carpet. The door opened with a disheveled Lavi panting, trying to get his boots on.

"I'm here!" He gasped, still fiddling with his boots, and his headband askew across his head.

"Good man." Reever exited the room, and continued to Lenalee's room. Lavi was sleeping on the wall about five feet from his room, and Reever sighed. Timcanpy flew by Reever, and made a motion towards Lavi. "Have at 'im." Reever continued down the hall, and in a few moments, he heard Lavi scream in pain. "Y-ooowch!!" Reever smiled, and knocked on Lenalee's door. A small yawn came, and he knocked two more times. "Lenalee?"

"...Yes, Director Reever?"

"The mission is starting, we've got our assignment. We're going down to the ship."

Lenalee yawned. "Alright, I'm coming." Reever listened, and heard the sheets inside moving, and footsteps on the floor. _Good, now to get everyone to the 'States, but that'll be tricky._

* * *

Reever let the bill go the Black Order, and he gathered the four exorcists to the boat. He introduced Allen to the ship and its special engine. He gave Allen the solemn warning, to which he sweat-dropped and nodded. So, thus, he put them below deck, and he let the ship use the wind to move them out to sea to move away from any witnesses. He walked up to the wheel and pressed a small circle inside the eye-center of the wheel, and a rumble was heard from below. The ship began to move, bit by bit, faster and faster. Soon, the ship was going at incredible speeds. He was protected by a sort of dome that covered the quarterdeck, allowing him to see where he was going. _Praise the lord for technology_ was his only offering.

Several hours passed, and about two hours after sunrise they were in sight of a Louisiana port. He pressed the circle again, and the engine stopped and receded back into the boat's aft. the sails crawled back up onto the masts, and the wind took over. The dome disappeared, and he walked down to the deck. He opened the crew hold, and called to the exorcists, "Okay, we're closing in on land. If you want to come out, you can now." He closed the door, and returned back up to the quarterdeck.

Landing took them about thirty minutes, as well as effectively using (again) the Black Order's special powers to have the ship be put on extra-guard, as well as locked and docked safely. He and the four exorcists entered the port town, which was busy with the morning set-up. Shops were being located and others opened. Lavi was uninterested; for him, just another port. Lenalee and Allen were amazed by it, completely new to this nation. Kanda was suspiciously looking around, noting that people noticed his Mugen. Reever looked around, and looked at a note he made last night. _Two blocks from the port-dock, Finnegan's Market._ He didn't see any market. He retraced his steps and location by looking back, and saw that they had passed the market already. He walked directly over to it, and he knocked. A gruff voice came from inside, "Go away, we ain't open today."

Reever opened the little slot on the door, that was a small window into the dark shop. "We're with the Black Order." He pulled out a small medallion, showing his name, and as well a small green diamond. It signified that he was a Section Director. The door unlocked, and it opened. A man was clearing his throat, and turned on the lights. The voice called for them to enter, but now it was slightly cracked. As the voice coughed again, the group of five ventured in.

"Close the door behind you, please. Don't want to attract any attention." Allen nodded, and closed the door. He closed the small window as well. "Thank 'ya." The man said, his voice now much younger than before. "Sorry 'bout the creepy voice; just to make sure people stayed away. Creepy voices keep plenty o' people out of here." The man spoke with a slight French-Canadian accent now, obviously grinning at his performance. "Now, who do we have here..." He moved through some files in his hands.

"Lenalee Lee... sister to Komui Lee, Chief of Black Order... Exorcist; Anti-Akuma weapon, Equipment-type, the Dark Boots..." He looked up, and matched her face to the picture. She nodded, smiling. "...Check... Allen Walker... Exorcist of the Black Order... Anti-Akuma Weapon, Parasite-type, left arm..." He looked up, and Allen raised his hand and slightly removed his glove, revealing the red-skinned left arm and the cross 'embedded' in it. The man blinked twice, taken aback by it, and looked back down to his files. "... Check... Lavi, Exorcist... Anti-Akuma Weapon, Equipment-type Tettsui, a- k- a- Iron Hammer a- k- a Big Hammer Little Hammer..." He looked up again, and looked to Kanda and Lavi. Kanda looked to Lavi, and the man's gaze followed. Lavi pulled out the little hammer, grinning wildly. "...Check. Last, Yu Kanda, Exorcist... Anti-Akuma Weapon, Equipment-type Mugen a- k- a- Six Illusions." He looked up at Kanda, who scowled at the man. "Note... always in a bad mood, check." Allen stifled a chuckle, and Lenalee hid a grin. Kanda's scowl grew.

The man looked at the last file. "Reever Wenham, Science Section Director of the Black Order Headquarters'." He looked up to Wenham, whom nodded and showed the medallion. "Check. That's everyone." The man stood up, and put the files down. "Hello, I'm Colin Jacques, I am a Finder of the North American Branch. I'll be leading you to the last known site of the strange events. It's about a mile out from here, so we should get going." He picked up a Finder's coat from behind the desk, and put it on. On, as well, came a back-pack. "You've been briefed before coming, correct? We are to find the supposed group of potential Exorcists, and we are to bring them to the Black Order's Headquarters for evaluation. Do everything in your power to protect them." The group, minus Kanda, nodded, and they were off into the forest outside of the port town. They were walking the whole way to lessen the chance of pursuit by bandit or Akuma, and also because of a note from Komui, saying _They are to walk the whole way. Try to push work on me, will you, Reever?_ Reever's eyebrow twitched and an anger mark appeared on his head. "That lousy, two-timing snake in the god damn grass..."

**Next chapter will come soon. Sorry this chapter wasn't as long as the last one; I'll try to average at least 1,900 to 2,000 words per chapter. Anyways, enjoy and review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Yoshimoto** **Trigen:** **Bringing you good fanfiction since never.**

Colin looked into the distance, putting a hand to shadow over his eyes. The projected point of origin of the unusual events was just over a hill and a few hundred feet away, in the forest. He and the team of exorcists and Reever Wenham were in a field, staying low for cover. It was his duty to reveal himself to check for the safety of the exorcists. His eyes spot something moving in the distance, so he brought out his binoculars. He adjusted them several times, and he saw a floating level one Akuma.

He immediately dropped to the ground, and stayed at prone while slowly moving himself back to the group. He brought himself between them, and opened the grass a little more to try and help point out the target. "There's a level one about an estimated three hundred feet in front of us," He whispered, "It could be bait, but it's your call, exorcists."

Lenalee looked to Lavi, whom looked to Kanda, who didn't look at anyone, so Lavi turned his gaze to Reever. Reever blinked, and rubbed his head. "Yeah, there's a chance it could be a trap. We should try to avoid the level one's path, and slowly go around it."

Lavi blinked in surprise. "But Reever, we could probably handle whatever comes our way, right?"

Reever nodded. "Yeah, you probably can, Lavi. But our mission here isn't to hunt down Akuma; it's to get the targets."

"I agree with Reever, Lavi. We need to make sure we don't scare off the group by causing a lot of noise. We should just sneak around."

Lavi sighed, and nodded in agreement. The group stayed in proned positions, and crawled in a slightly curved path to avoid the Akuma. The level one was slowly floating around the area, seemingly looking for something. The group managed to avoid the Akuma's path, and continued on to the forest. As soon as they entered the tree line, they ran behind the trees, and hid behind them. Reever looked back, and saw the Akuma continuing its mindless path, apparently not noticing them. Reever sighed in relief, and turned around. "Alright, so that takes care of most of the distance, and we still have to go through the forest and look for them. We'll split up into groups to save time. Kanda, you will go straight through the forest. Lavi, you will go with Colin to about that way." He pointed towards the forest again, but more towards his right. "You need to stay hidden, but make sure they never leave through that way. Allen and Lenalee, you two will go with me towards the opposite way. Once we encircle most of the forest, and if Kanda does not cross their paths, then we will cut through the forest and see if we can. If we go a whole twenty-four hours without finding them, we'll need to go back to the North American Branch and see if the finders reported a new sighting. Everyone clear?" All of the group nodded. Even Kanda, this time. He was at least relieved he could be on his own without any of them annoying him. "So, who didn't bring a golem for communication?" Kanda pulled his communication golem out, and it sprung to live. Lavi showed his, and Lenalee had hers. Allen had Timcanpy with him. "Alright, so let's move out."

The group fragmented and separated into their groups, and proceeded to patrol and search their areas of the forest for a few hours. Lavi swore he saw something a few times, but they turned out to be either a rabbit or a squirrel. Kanda, annoyed, kept reprimanding him, now wishing they were a a group just so he can stab the red-haired boy. Allen and Lenalee made casual conversation with Reever, while Lenalee updated Allen on current events in Headquarters; she was obviously more in-tune and responsible for the Headquarters than Komui. _But'cha still have to give the Chief some credit; he does work hard when it comes to helping the Exorcists out._Reever looked to the distance, and he saw the sun setting. _The golem has been pretty quiet for the last few minutes, perhaps I should call in an update..._He waved the golem over, and it flew closer. "Lavi and Colin, have you found anything yet?"

Colin's voice chimed in instead of Lavi's this time. "Lavi found another rabbit." Reever put his hand over his eyes, clearly frustrated with Lavi. "... however, we are picking up the smell of firewood nearby. We're trying to locate the source, but this forest is very thick." There was a brief silence, and Colin muttering under his breath. Than, there was a call from the distance on his end, and Colin called back, "Alright, I'm coming!" His voice then turned back to the golem. "Reever, Lavi seems to have found something." There was then heavy foot-steps that were in a fast pace, with Colin breathing in and out. Allen, Lenalee and Reever held their breath, waiting in suspense. A few snaps of twigs and the sound of a jump, and Colin was back on the golem. "It's a campsite, Reever! We've found a campsite! Lock onto my golem's signal, I'll try contacting Kanda."

Timcanpy rose, and began flying North of the group, closing in on Colin's signal. The group followed the golden golem, and found Lavi sitting on a log, keeping a look-out. He saw them, and waved them over. "It's over here!" He dropped down from the log onto the other side of it, disappearing from view. Allen and Lenalee climbed up on the log first, and Reever followed. There was a campsite, alright. But...

... it was half-destroyed.

* * *

The tents were asunder and skewered, there was a tree lying across a tent and laying near the camp fire in the middle of the clearing. Colin was inspecting the tree, staying up and away from it. Lenalee looked at Colin's peculiar stature, and asked, "Why are you standing up, Colin? Aren't you having a hard time seeing, even with the fire?"

Colin looked to her, and nodded. "Yes, Miss Lee, it's very hard to see in this light, but I can already see what happened to the tree. Look-y here." He pointed towards inside the trunk. "Now watch this." He picks up a rock, and tosses it in. Subsequently, the trunk released a burst of gas, making Colin jump back a little.

"Th- That's Akuma gas!" Reever exclaimed, hold a hand to his mouth. "They were _all _killed?!"

Lavi shook his head. "Nope, we have not found any bodies from either Akuma or human. No dust or crumble. We even looked in the tents."

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the bush broke open, revealing a girl carrying a boy with an arm that was bent in a peculiar way. "Damn it, I thought we would never get back here..." The girl pushed her hair out of her face, and adjusted the boy's hold on her shoulder. As she was doing so, she noticed that she was being watched. She looked up, and saw the whole group surprised by her sudden appearance, and even more so by her rough demeanor. "Who are you?" She exclaimed, settling the boy, whom was dazed slightly, down. She primed her fists in front of her, clearly ready to attack.

Allen stammered, raising his hands to try and slow her down. "W- wait a second! We aren't enemies! We were looking for a group of about five. Are you one of them?"

The girl lowered her fists, and began to actually examine what they were wearing. "Crosses, robes... what?" She blinked for a few seconds. "Who the... _what_ the hell are you guys?"

Reever walked forward, his hands up. "We're from an organization called the Black Order. You've been asking around about the Akuma, right?" She slowly nodded. "We fight the Akuma. We destroy them, and free the souls of those trapped inside. The ones in the Black Order who fight the Akuma are called the 'Exorcists', they use powerful substances called 'Innocence' as weapons to fight the evil forces of the Akuma. Do you have anything that's of weird or different properties?"

She blinked, muttering "Different... properties..?" She reached up her shirt sleeve, and pulled down an arm-band. The band was glowing with white flares, but also purple flares mixed with black. "Is this... erm... 'Innocence'?"

Reever walked forward, and examined the band. He looked at it from different angles. "Yes... yes, this is most likely an Innocence. This can be crafted into an anti-Akuma weapon, back at Headquarters." The girl rubbed her chin, interested deeply. "You mean... I could actually fight the Akuma with this?

Lavi spoke up this time, wanting to join in the conversation. "Do your friends have the same type of glowing material? Where are they?"

"Uhm, well, they're-" She was immediately cut off by a large explosion in the trees, sending branches and left-over bits of trees flying into them, gusting them nearly off their feet. There, standing in the epicenter of the explosion, was a pair of level two Akuma and a single level one Akuma."Ach! They're here!" The girl coughed.

Allen reached out, and shouted, "Invocation!" His entire left arm exploded, or, so it seemed. It actually _transformed_ into his anti-Akuma parasite weapon. The grayish-pale enlarged clawed-arm brought to bear, and was aimed for the Akuma. "You will see... it is our duty to vanquish the Akuma and save their souls."

The level two Akuma on the left smiled, and looked to his partner. **"Well, Zodd. It appears that we have trifled upon some Exorcists. More killing and more Innocence!"** It cackled, bringing up its arms to form two powerful blades.

**"Indeed, Phil... let's get rid of them and move on."** The Akuma labeled as 'Zodd' brought up a hand, forming a ball of fire. **"Die, you FOOLS!"** And lobbed the ball of flame directly at them.

Allen moved in front of the inferno, and slashed it with his arm and destroyed it. Lenalee, while Allen was moving to defend, activated her Innocence and played along with the strategy and slammed her legs into 'Phil' before he could react.** "Gweh-"** The Dark Boots slammed into him like a ton of steel, and sent him into the clearing. She swung herself with her Dark Boots to chase after him.

Lavi leaped forward, and activated his hammer. "Big hammer, little hammer, grow, grow, grow!" He shouted, and the hammer grew ten times its normal size. He swung in the air with momentum, and slammed Zodd into a tree.

**"Gah!"** Zodd grunted, and struggled to rise. **"Not bad... for a lil' kid."** Two fireballs appeared in his hands, growing larger. **"But you should really not play with fire."**

Lavi smirked, and stood on his hammer. "Let's see who's better, then." He leaped off the hammer, and yelled "Seal!" A row of rings with seals inside of them appeared around him. He waved through one with the Japanese kanji of fire.

**"Bring it on, boy!"** Zodd leaped, and combined the fireballs into one huge one to smash into Lavi.

Lavi also leaped, yelling "Fire Seal: Configuration of Ash!" In midair, he and the Akuma smashed together, creating a small funnel flames and heated air, sending everyone onto their backs.

Reever stood up, waving his hands through the smoke. "Lavi?! Are you alright?" He coughed, and tried to stay near the girl, Colin and Allen but he couldn't see a thing. The smoke began to clear in a few seconds, revealing Lavi with some minor scrapes on himself and some burns, but he was overall alright. Reever sighed, shaking his head. "Don't be so reckless, Lavi. Bookman would kill you if you died."

Lavi smirked and hit the Akuma on the head with the end of his hammer. "Exorcise." The body of the Akuma dissipated, and the soul disappeared, as a smiling old man. Lavi nodded to the spirit, smiling. He looked to the girl, and smirked. "So... what's your name?"

The girl blinked, and studdered in simple amazement. "Y- Yoko. My name is Yoko Kyoukan."

Lavi nodded. "I'm Lavi, and that's Allen." He points to Allen, whom was standing in front of Colin and Reever as their protector.

"Lavi! Don't forget about the level one Akuma!" Colin yelled from the side.

He shrugged, and brought his hammer up. "Fine, fine." The level one brought its guns forward, and there was a whistling sound from the large machine. Lavi's grip on his hammer tightened, and he leaped at the machine with grace, swinging his hammer. The hammer made contact with the Akuma, but as well it fired accidentally and the Akuma bullet hit the tree near the boy that Yoko put down earlier. "Damn! Look out-!" Lavi called, but Yoko was already there and nearly throwing the knocked-out boy into Reever and Colin. Lavi studdered, "W- well, that's a way to handle it..."

Lenalee walked out of another part of the clearing, walking above some debris of a tree. She had some dirt on her, but she was unharmed."I exorcised the other level two Akuma. Did you get the other ones?"

Lavi nodded. "Yeah, but one almost killed that boy over there." He pointed at the boy, whom was being almost passed back and forth by Reever and Colin, trying to decide who would support him. Lavi and Allen deactivated their Innocence's, but as soon as Lavi deactivated his, a fist slammed right into Lavi's stomach, sending him flying into a nearby tree, which collapsed on top of him and covering him entirely in leaves.

The fist was Yoko's, and she looked very mad at the moment. "Watch what you're doing! You could have killed him!" She clenched her fist again, looking very threatening.

A same thought pinged across Allen, Colin and Reever's minds as they saw Lavi struggling to crawl out of the pile of leaves, _S- She's so scary..._ Next to Colin, two boys ran out of a bush, coming into the clearing. One was tanned with brown hair, and another was a little bit smaller with white skin and also brown hair. "Y- Yoko! Why did you punch him?! He destroyed the Akuma for us!" The taller one asked.

Yoko shrugged, and shook her hand off. "He was being a moron, and he almost got Yoshimata killed. He'll be fine, it was just a punch. Go find Sami, and tell her that the Akuma are gone, will ya?"

The smaller one muttered something in Italian to the taller one, and pointed at Lavi. The taller one blinked, and said "Uh, she's over there by the guy you just pile-drived..."

Truth be told, another girl was peeking into the bush, and grabbed Lavi's hand and pulled him out. Lavi was half-knocked senseless, and took a moment to speak. "Ah, oh, hello." The girl giggled, and helped him out of the tree.

Colin could only clear his throat, and look around. "Um... perhaps we should continue anything else back in town? This kid looks pretty bad, I think his arm is broken..."

Allen nodded in agreement. "Yeah, there are some medical supplies on the boat, right, Director Reever?"

Reever blinked, and nodded. "There is some, yeah." He waved his golem down from the sky, to which the new boys and Yoko were surprised by, but Sami seemed very interested in it. "Kanda, are you there?"

Kanda's voice crackled on the golem. "Yeah, what was all that noise?"

"We found the group, Kanda. We're going back into town."

Kanda grunted. "Fine. I'll go back to the boat, then."

* * *

**Sorry this chapter was so long and ended in a pretty goofy way, but I'm pretty sick right now. Hope you all enjoy!** **I'll try to update soon enough.**


	10. Chapter 10

**D. Gray-man manga set to resume publication in about April. Hells yeah.**

Back and forth, back and forth, a rocker creaks in the middle of a room. In the rocker, is the icon of the destruction of mankind; the end of love and the sheer death of humanity: the Millennium Earl. Beside him is his trusted associate and the bearer of his sword, Lero. The umbrella-like object turned its pumpkin head on it's master, and seemingly spurted out a choked sentence. "Master Earl, I have to ask Leroro; it's been a month since the Noah family was… was…"

The Earl kept rocking, and knitting what seems to be an outfit. "Ah, yes, yes, Lero." The Earl chuckled, and pearled a loop. However, he stopped chuckling and sighed in sadness. "My poor, poor family… Jasdevi, Skinn… all taken from me; and what remains of our family? Just myself and a few of the children. Not to mention… the Egg. Destroyed by the cursed Black Order."

Lero perked, and leaned forward. "Yes, mi lord! We are beginning to run low on Akuma Leroro! Even with calamity in the world, you cannot do as you do best and offer your deals Leroro! What- ?"

The Earl raised his hand. "Please, Lero. Let me continue." He leaned back, and allowed himself to rock again. "Now… if a prop in a play is ever broken, my dear Lero… it has to be fixed. The show must go on, as they say!" He raised the needle for dramatic effect. "If an actor is suddenly fallen ill during the play, we must find an understudy. If one actor is to gain advantage over another, then we must see that they do not ruin the ending."

Lero leaned forward. "So, even with the Crowned Clown form of Allen Walker…?"

The Earl laughed. "Ah, my dear Lero… with such inactivity and our blatant maneuvers to trick the Black Order at every turn, we are stalling for time. As well as to wear on their nerves, as well as to put them in a common-sense of complacency but as well as a reminder that I am still around… we are stalling for time…" He looked up, nerves around his eyes bulging. "…to repair an important prop, and… to welcome new members... of the cast."

"As you say, mi lord Leroro..." The umbrella bowed and resumed floating by the Earl's side.

* * *

In and out...

Slowly, consciousness returned to Yoshimata Hakitawa. He awoken from his pain-induced slumber once to seeing a man with a blurring black object dancing with another blur. The blurs were glowing, it seemed. Losing consciousness again during their dance, he awoken for again only a few seconds, this time he saw houses pass him as he leaned on something white and fast. He smelled sea-water, and soon his pain overtook him and he slumbered. But now, he woke up completely. Slowly, albeit, but he still awoken. He was laying in a futon in a slowly rocking room. He tried to get up, but one arm was tied up. _Ah... a cast? I... must of broken it. But... why am I on a boat? Where is everyone? _He used his good, unbroken arm to prop himself up on the floor, looking around. His robes were laying by his feet, dirty and containing a few circles of red. Yoshimata was dazed and confused, that was for sure. Outside, he heard a woman's voice faintly talking away from the room, but the distance between the voice and him was closing. He tried to listen, but he couldn't hear the conversation. But one thing was for sure; the voice didn't belong to anyone he knew. He began to try and crawl out of the bed, but his body was too weak. _Damn..._

The door opened, and in came a woman. She was carrying a towel and some food; she gave a start when she saw Yoshimata. "Ah! You're awake!" She turned around, and called outside. "He's awake!" There was shuffling outside, and in came several people he did not know, but after a boy with red-hair there came Dairu, Joseph, Sami and Yoko, but she looked back slightly for a moment but continued in. If Yoshimata was confused before, now he was simply lost. He rubbed his head slightly, and felt a bandage going around his forehead. He knew to quit fiddling with it, and looked to whom seemed the older of all of them.

"Um, pardon my ignorance, but... whom are you?"

The man with the chin hairs answered. "We're members of the Black Order. We found you and your friends inside a forest in North America; do you remember anything?"

Yoshimata blinked, and rubbed his head. "I remember... waking up in my tent, my whole arm was in pain... something sharp, something... large was stabbing my tent over and over. I heard Yoko yelling something, and outside my tent I could see Dairu and Joseph running. Something slammed hard into my tent, and... that's all I can remember." Yoshimata began to gain some confidence, and looked from each stranger to another. The woman who came in, now he saw, was actually very cute; she had long-ish hair that was tied in two ponytails. The man whom asked him of any memory of one night's event was older then everyone, it seemed; he carried the bearings of an adult, but was at the same time drinking what seems to be a soda. Things just kept getting weirder; he turned his gaze, and met the eyes, well, _eye _of a boy with red hair, a strange head-band and an eye patch. Next to him was a boy with long white hair, a tattoo, a strangely red-black arm, a lightly tanned skin-tone, and on his shoulder was, as Yoshimata could see, a flying golden ball with teeth. To top all of this strangeness off the older man, the red-head and the cute girl were all in strange uniforms. "Again, please pardon me, but... what _is_ the 'Black Order'?"

The man sat back. "We are an organization made to fight the Akuma and to stop a man called the Millennium Earl. He is the creator of the Akuma, and he is trying to destroy the world due to prophecy. I am part of the Science Branch, which creates and invents to help our forces. Our forces include two main branches: Finders, part of the Intelligence Branch, and the Exorcists, the main forces of the battlefield. Here, we have four exorcists on this boat. We have Allen Walker," he moved his hand to him, "Lenalee Lee," he moved his hand once more. "And Lavi." He again moved his hand. "The fourth exorcist on this boat, Yu Kanda, is piloting the ship for me temporarily. Try not to get on his nerves; he's very blood thirsty when provoked. Oh, and I'm Reever Wenham by the way. Director of the Science Department at the Black Order's Headquarters."

Yoshimata nodded, and bowed slightly. "I see. Hello. I haven't introduced myself yet, have I? I am Yoshimata Hakitawa." Reever extended his hand, and Yoshimata shook it warmly. He also shook hands with Allen, Lenalee and Lavi when they offered their hands. Yoshimata breathed in, and asked a new question. "Why am I on this boat, per say? Is there something we can help you with?"

Reever sat on a chair next to Yoshimata, leaning forward. "We believe that you are capable to becoming Exorcists of the Black Order. Three of you carry Innocence's on your person," He looked to Yoko, who showed her armband. He also looked to Joseph, who showed a dagger with a rusty blade but a glowing hilt, and also Dairu, who moved his hair back to show a glowing ball-earring. "Now she," Reever turned the attention to Sami, "Came across her own Innocence, it seems, inside of a drawing book. What's strange about it is that the book never seems to run out of definable pages to be used." He rubs his chin, slightly, trying to explain. "However, you _can_ flip to the back of the book whenever you want." He scratched his head. "Well, it's kind of hard for me to explain, but you _do_ understand where I'm going with this, right?"

Yoshimata nodded. "Yeah, I think I understand it." He blinked slightly, his head moving downwards. He blinked again. "I haven't come across anything like theirs, yet... yet strange things have always been happening, even before this group met together." He winced at his good arm, his hand tightening. Reever, Allen and Lavi leaned forward, interested. "Whenever I was threatened... whenever I was ever nearly killed, my left hand would... glow. It felt scorching hot at one moment, but after a few seconds, it felt like just a regular heat. Whenever this happened, things would burn if my hand touched them... what does... what does it mean?" Yoshimata looked up, clearly troubled.

Lavi rubbed his chin, and pointed his finger up. "That sounds awfully like a parasite-type, doesn't it?" Allen nodded in agreement.

Joseph muttered into Dairu's ear, speaking in Italian. Dairu paused in one place for a moment in time, listening to Joseph's every word. He nodded when Joseph finished, and he turned to the group. "Joseph wants to know what is a 'parasite-type', and as well, I am also interested; what does it mean?"

Reever looked to Lenalee, giving her the job of explaining. Lenalee nodded, and Reever sat back and drank his soda. "There are, officially, two types of Innocences formed into anti-Akuma weapons: First is equipment-type. Equipment types are Innocences that have found an Accomodator who synchronizes with it, but aren't part of the person's genetic makeup. Since they aren't part of the body, they are harder to use if the Exorcist doesn't have a high synch-rate. It is extremely rare that an Innocence is already in a form for an anti-Akuma weapon, so at the Black Order Headquarters, we activate the Innocence to begin synching with you, so that it will become the weapon it's supposed to be." Lavi held up his weapon in example, his hammer. Sami smiled, holding the book close with pride at the words 'extremely rare' for her to have a pre-formed Innocence. Joseph stuck his tongue out in either jealousy or respite; Dairu, Yoko and Yoshimata nodded in some understanding. "Allen's anti-Akuma is his left-arm." She raised her hand to prove example, and Allen raised his arm to show.

"My entire left arm is the weapon; it may not seem much right now, but when I activate it, it becomes it's true form. Anyways, because it's part of _me_, the weapon and I are much more deadly when we have a high synch rate. However, because it's part of my body and uses the food I eat as much as I do for energy, I have to eat much more then a normal person."

Yoshimata nodded, his eyes wide open. "I always did have a strange appetite..." He mumbled, rubbing his chin in wonderment. He flex his hand, staring at it.

"We'll bring you to Hevlaska, our Guardian of Innocence's, once we land. We're about twenty minutes away from the shore." Reever stood up, stretching. "Well, I guess I should get back to piloting the ship. Kanda'll probably get angry at being left with the job." He walked out of the room.

* * *

The ship made port at London, however in a secluded area given to them by the Vatican. They all departed at once, eager to get off the rocking ship that entered choppy waters of the English Channel. "Good timing, I just ran out of soda..." Reever muttered, shaking the cup around. "We'll need to walk through this forest to get to the Black Order Headquarters, so just follow us." They began walking up into the forest, stepping on a stony path going up a hill.

Sami was walking behind Lavi, and poked him. "Huh?" Lavi asked, turning his head around.

"Um, Lavi... what does 'Headquarters' look like?" Sami inquired.

Lavi rubbed his head. "It looks..." He was trying to look for a word to describe it. "Um... Oh, yeah! Like an old Gothic Cathedral. It's just above this hill, so you'll see it soon."

"Oh... okay." Sami whispered. She looked at a tree, and saw a beautiful bird nesting inside of it. "Oh, so pretty!" She squeeled, and she took out her notebook. She unclipped her pen, and began to trace. She kept looking at the bird, drawing the bird free-handed but not missing a single edge or mark. Yoko noticed that her friend wasn't with the group, and looked back to see Sami standing still and looking up at the tree, her hand moving swiftly.

Yoko sighed, and walked over to Sami's side. She put her hand on her shoulder, trying to get her attention. "Sami?"

Sami jumped in surprise, and turned happily to Yoko. "Yoko! Look, a birdie!" She exclaimed, holding up an almost exact copy of the bird.

Yoko blinked twice. _Man, she's still good at drawing..._ She shook her head, and brought herself back. "Cmon, Sami. We're falling behind from the group, y'know? Gotta stay together."

Sami blinked, and nodded. "Right!" They sprinted to get back into pace with the group, whom was almost out of the forest. When the group reached the top, the Exorcists and Wenham kept on walking towards the Headquarters. Yoshimata and Dairu slowed down a bit, and Yoko, Sami and Joseph stopped completely in their tracks. "Wo-ooow... Lavi-kun wasn't lying..." Sami slipped an honorific in the sentence.

"It's impressive. Not exactly like Notre Dame, but beautiful nonetheless." Dairu said; he turned his head to his friend. "Right, Yoshimata?"

Yoshimata nodded in agreement. "Yeah... beautiful."

Reever stopped in front of the gate, and looked up. "Gatekeeper, please give us permission to enter. We have all four Exorcists as we left, but we have five new members with us."

The giant head looked down. "New finders?"

Reever shook his head. "Nope. New Exorcists."

**Aaaand we'll stop there, and we'll resume in the next chapter with my best guess at how they form anti-Akuma weapons.**


	11. Chapter 11

**No Lavi's were harmed in the making of this fanfiction. Except for Lavi.**

"**LAVI?! DID SOMEONE SAY… LAVI?!" Sami randomly yells.**

"**W- What?!" Yoshimata is then tackled mercilessly.**

The front door opened wide, allowing the group entrance. They entered, and the door slammed shut. Inside, the Black Order Headquarters was hard at work. "Hey, welcome back!" Yelled a scientist on the third floor balcony, waving his hand with vigor.

"Thanks, Likei! Do ya know if Hevlaska was transferred here yet?" Yelled Reever.

"Oh, uh.. yeah! She was just settled in yesterday! She's in the newest part of the castle that we just built!"

Reever nodded. "Alright, thanks, Likei! I'll be back soon, just gotta settle a few things."

Likei blinked, and yelled back. "What's that? You found a new Exorcist?"

Reever shook his head, and yelled back. "Nah, _five_ new Exorcists." On a balcony, a finder nearly fell out of his seat, studdering the words to his comrades.

"F- _five?!" _Studdered, his eyes wide-open. Around the balconies, many people began to mutter to themselves, looking to each other and passing it on. They all shared the same excitement and surprise as their tellers, and some even ran out of the balconies to spread the news.

Dairu looked around, his eyebrow raised. "... I guess this is a big deal, Mr. Wenham?"

"Yeah, it is. We've been hit hard in the past few months; we lost our old Headquarters, we lost an Exorcist General, we lost over a dozen Exorcists and over one hundred of our finders, and several of the scientists in my District were killed." He sighed, putting a hand to his head in sadness. _Tapp..._ He thought. He breathed, and shook his head. "We're just happy... that you'll join us." He smiled.

Yoshimata bowed in respect of Wenham, Sami and Yoko nodded in agreement, Dairu bowed his head, and Joseph kept his stare, waiting for Dairu to translate. As Dairu leaned to Joseph to translate the English into Italian, Lenalee looked to Allen. "So, Allen, your uniform should be in your room, so you should probably go and put it on."

Allen blinked, and realized he was still in his civilian clothes, which clashed severely with his hair, tattoo and arm. He sweat-dropped, and nodded. "Oh! Yeah, I should. Thanks, Lenalee." He nodded to everyone, and took his leave to go to his room.

Lavi yawned, and rubbed his eye. "I guess I'll just go to bed now; I barely got a wink of sleep..." He turned his gaze at Reever. He took off after a second of a glare, stumbling in a comedic fashion. Kanda simply walked away, not giving a word of where he was intending to go.

Reever watched them off, and once Allen, Lavi and Kanda were gone, he gave Lenalee a nod, and she turned to the group. "Alright; Dairu, Joseph, Sami, Yoko and Yoshimata; I will bring you to Chief Komui for explanation. Please follow me." She turned, and they walked off for the stairs.

Reever kept a steady gaze on them, and he leaned against a pillar. "So... Inspector Link..." He looked to the shadows. "... when is the Vatican going to give the order to tell about Allen's..." He gulped, almost disgusted by the thought. _Poor, poor guy... Bad things happen to the best people._ "... predicament?"

Out of the shadows came a young man with a stern face and a stone-cold gaze. "We're expecting the order soon. We want to use his skills a little more, as well as to train those five new recruits that you found. Once he has done so... we'll let the news out."

* * *

A knock came from the door, and Komui called from his desk and his wasteland of paperwork and books, "Come in." The door opened, and Komui's eye lazily looked to see who was entering. When he looked, his heart burst and his soul caught fire. "LEEEEEEEEEENAAAAAAAALEE!" The man screamed, torpedoing himself, against the laws of physics, out of his desk to the door. Through the door he went, glomping his sister. "Lenalee! I missed you so much! How was your trip?!" He spoke fast, hugging Lenalee like he was a parent who found his child again.

"Oh, brother. The trip was fine, I enjoyed it. You've got to do your job now, we have five new potential Exorcists." She pet her brother's head in embarrassment, laughing.

_Oh, fine...._ He gave into Lenalee's one suggestion whereas several groups of half-dead-from-exhaustion scientists could not move his heart. He stood up, correcting his beret and his glasses. "Alright, so please come inside! I'll get you five settled and informed." He raised his arm, and one girl moved in cautiously with a sense of apprehension around her; a boy whispered in Italian to a slightly older boy in front of him, and they walked in as well. Another girl was with them; she was extremely happy and very hyper. She held down her hand to help Komui up, and he accepted. "Ah, thank you... uhm..."

The girl nodded. "My name's Sami, sir." She grinned.

"Oh, so, thank you, Sami. Come on in, please." Sami nodded, and she ran inside to join her friends. Komui turned to Lenalee, and he grinned. "They seem eager, little sister."

Lenalee nodded. "I hope we all become friends very quickly." The two Lee's walked inside, Komui closing the door behind him.

* * *

The door opened, and inside the room walked Allen. He breathed in, and smelled the fresh air of his room. Seemingly untouched, save for cleaning and maintenance, he let himself fall on the bed. _Ah... I'm home._ He stretched on the bed slightly, missing the feeling of the sheets. He lazily looked over, and saw his uniform just as Lenalee told him. He brought himself up, and picked up the clothing. He changed out of his fake clothes, and dressed himself with the uniform. The clothes still fit, but they felt a little bit tighter. "Perhaps I grew over my vacation?" Allen muttered. He stretched in the clothing, and shrugged. "Oh well." He left the old clothes on his bed, neatly folded, and he opened his door to leave. **_Thunk!_** He hit something outside of his door, and heard a yelp and falling books. Not only did he hear it, but he saw it before his very eyes. Papers were falling everywhere, and books were strewn around as if an explosion happened.

"Oh man..." Came a voice from behind the door, and the papers began to shuffle.

Allen, not wanting to seem rude, swiftly came out of his room and looked around the door. "I'm so sorry! Are you hurt?!" Before him, he saw Johnny Gill in shambles. "Johnny?!"

Johnny looked up, now recognizing the voice. "Allen?" It was! "ALLEEEEEEEEN!" Allen was instantly glomped by Johnny, who was surprisingly fast for a guy his size. "Allen, it's been so long! We all missed you so much! How was your vacation?!"

Allen chuckled, rubbing Johnny's head. "It was great! I missed all of you, too. It was kinda lonely being there all by myself."

Johnny stopped hugging, and blinked. "Did you get a tan?"

Allen blushed in embarrassment, laughing. "Yeah, I did."

Johnny was puzzled slightly by Allen's new look. "Huh. Well, anyways... what was the mission you were given about? I heard something about it, but it was drowned out."

"Well, we recruited five potential Exorcists, and they're currently in Komui's office preparing to join the Order." Allen blinked when he finished his sentence. Johnny was almost blanked in expression; he became silent when Allen said 'five potential Exorcists'.

"F... f... fi- five?" Johnny stammered, his eyes beginning to glow, a grin forming and an evil-like chuckle swelling from him._ Oh yeah... Johnny is very obsessive with designing Exorcist outfits._ Allen sweat-dropped, just realizing what danger he just put the five in.

"Jo- Johnny, please stay calm. They've gotta form their weapons first." Johnny blinked, realizing it was too soon to flood them with design questions.

He moaned, and looked down. "Fiiiine... well, I guess I'll have to get back to work." He bent back down, and began picking up the books and papers. Allen insisted that he help, and Johnny readily accepted it. They collected the papers and the books, and some of them in Johnny's arms, and more in Allen's arms. Johnny led the way, and Allen followed. _Well, I guess I'll be a little late..._ He thought, remembering that he would probably miss the anti-Akuma weapon formation. _I'll probably try and catch up as soon as I'm done helping Johnny._

* * *

Komui finished writing down the last name. "Alright. Joseph Colombo, Yoshimata Hakitawa, Yoko Kyoukan, Sami Hana, and Dairu Gottschalk. All of your paper-work is filled out; welcome to the Black Order." He raised his hand, and he shook with them in the order he read their names. They were quite an interesting bunch, Komui had to admit. Their backgrounds were from all over the world, yet they still managed to find each other. Komui looked once more over the paperwork.

_Joseph Colombo, age 13. Born in Italy. Innocence: A dagger with the Innocence inside the hilt as a small marble. Will not speak of past occupation, left as 'Unknown'. Five-foot six, silent and speaks only in Italian but understands English._

_Yoshimata Hakitawa, age 15. Born in Korea to Japanese parents who escaped the Earl's reign in Japan. Innocence: Unknown, cannot find one on his person. Suspected parasite-Innocence. Five-foot ten, speaks Japanese, Korean, Russian and English. Buddhist monk._

_Yoko Kyoukan, age 15. Born in Japan but later removed and taken to Greece. She became friends with the royal family of the Kingdom of Greece, and successfully trained long enough to become one of the strongest royal guards. Occupation before resignation; captain. Innocence is in a preculiar form; inside of an arm-band on her right arm, seemingly modifying itself to the form. Five-foot nine and a half. Speaks English and Greek._

_Sami Hana, age 16. Born in Japan but moved to Vietnam. Eventually moving to France with a French family as their servants, but were on friendly terms with the French family. Former occupation; artist. Innocence; a drawing book that she has shown particular fast use with. The book also comes with a drawing pen filled with ink, presumably the Innocence itself. Five-foot nine. Speaks Japanese, French and English._

_Lastly, Dairu Gotsschalk. Age, 17. Born in the Middle East and immigrated to Germany. Former top-student to a scholar in Berlin. Shows signs of genius intelligence. His Innocence is in a pocket-watch. Five-foot ten and a half, speaks Arabic, Italian, German, French. Translates for Joseph Colombo._

Komui sighed, rubbing his head. _Boy, that took a lot of work to write..._ He coughed, and stood up. "Now... as you were shown, the Akuma cannot be fought by hand, they must be fought by the Exorcists. They use the Innocence in the form of weapons we simply label as 'anti-Akuma weapons'. One of our Exorcists, Hevlaska, will preform the process which will transform your weapons into what they intend to be. Do you understand so far?"

Everyone nodded, but Yoshimata spoke up. "Chief Komui, what about me, if I may ask? How will Hevlaska be able to transform a weapon for me?"

Komui pushed his glasses up. "She won't. She will, however, scan your body for an Innocence that could have been born with you, inside your body. She will be able to activate the Innocence, which could theoretically synch with your body and your mind, thus becoming a parasitic-weapon."

"Ah, now I see. Thank you. But, wait... what do you mean, 'scan'? How will she do so?"

Komui shuffled the papers on the desk. "You will find out soon enough, Yoshimata. Now.." he stood up. "Let's go visit Hevlaska."


	12. Chapter 12

**Some of you may be wondering why I don't do more then 2,000 words per chapter. The answer is: I don't like having extremely long chapters, I'm afraid I might ramble on and on and not have a good enough ending. I will **_**try **_**and address this issue by continuing to push for 4,000 words a chapter, but don't expect much results until we delve deeper into my clusterf**k.**

**Now, please enjoy my fanfic with a lemony twist, and a series of ****unfortunate events.**

* * *

"Get on board. Come on, don't be shy." Komui directed the five new Exorcists to the elevator-pad. They all boarded the pad, which was suspended in mid-air, cautiously. Even Dairu and Yoshimata seemed a little apprehensive. This technology is nearly hundreds of years away, at the pace the outside world is going with their advancements. However, as pointed out some time ago, the rules are the rules. None of this technology was to be shared with the world, and to be safe-guarded for the fight against the Earl. When the five new Exorcists plus Lenalee boarded, he pressed a button, and the pad activated. Continuing without hesitation, Komui pulled a lever down and the pad descended. They designed Hevlaska's room, so to speak, similar to the one in the Old Headquarters.

After a minute of descent that would have taken god knows how long on foot, they reached a new platform in the darkness. Showing them off, the group exited the pad and walked onto the platform with vigor. At least it was solid and not seemingly falling down into the darkness, the newcomers thought. Komui walked over the edge of the platform, looking over the documents on a clipboard for good measure. The five looked around, confused. They were standing in darkness; where is this Hevlaska person? Sami walked over to Komui, and tapped his shoulder. "Uhm, excuse me, Mr. Lee?"

Komui, not used to being called anything but 'Chief', 'Komui', or anything that mixes the two, was a little bit startled. "Yes, Sami?"

Sami looked around one more time, speaking as she turned. "Where is Hevlaska? Is... is she invisible?"

Komui gave a hearty laugh. "Oh, no, no, no. She's perfectly visible, believe me."

Yoshimata turned around again in his own position, looking above him. "Well, where is she, then?"

Komui walked to the edge of the platform, and held out his hand to the darkness. "Why, over here, of course!" The five rushed over, and all gasped in shock. There, they saw a giant being that, at chin and mouth, seemed human. However, the rest was... simply astonishing. Hevlaska was glowing with a seemingly holy light, as if illuminated by heaven.

Yoshimata took off a necklace that was hidden in his clothing, holding it to his chest. The symbol on it was the Eight-fold Path represented in a wheel form. "Simply beautiful..." He whispered, his eyes wide and open and almost glowing by the light.

Hevlaska levitated upwards, coming into full view of the platform. A smile was on her face. "Thank... you..."

Komui beamed, simply ecstatic that everything was going as expected. "Now, Hevlaska. These are five new Exorcists! We found them roaming around Northern America, and here's a shocker: most of them have their Innocence's with them! Sami Hana, here," Komui waved to present Sami. "Already has her Innocence in an anti-Akuma, yet it's not a Parasite. However, Yoshi over here has what we think is a Parasite-weapon, yet we can't seem to find any sign of it on him. My theory is that his Innocence is, somehow, weakened. In a dormant state, if you will. What do you say, Hevlaska?"

Hevlaska hummed for a few seconds, and answered. "I'd say... perhaps it is... dormant, but... I could re-awaken it by... communicating with... the Innocence."

Komui nodded. "Yes, but we should form the three other weapons first, Hevlaska, since we've probably never tried to 're-awaken' a dormant Innocence before, wouldn't you agree?"

Hevlaska nodded. "Yes... who will... be first?"

Komui almost spoke, his mouth open to form a sentence, but Dairu stepped forward; his eyes were gleaming with intellectual interest. "I must request that I go first, if I may. I want to see this for myself, if it's acceptable."

Komui smiled. _He's tenacious._"Of course! Makes it that much easier to get things moving. Now, will you please hold out your Innocence for Hevlaska to begin the creation?" Dairu nodded, and brought out a silver and gold pocket watch. He held the watch forward, showing off the lion encrusted on it, with it's heart embroidered with a ruby. He pressed a button on the top, and the case opened. Inside, the clock was ticking. However, in the middle, in the middle of the two hands, the Innocence was glowing with more luminosity than ever before. The hands were off-time, twitching in place. The Innocence was reacting to Hevlaska!

"Come... to me, In... Innocence..." One of Hevlaska's long seemingly-appendages came forth, and creeped closer and closer. Dairu's eye-brow raised, but he remained absolutely still.

Hevlaska's appendage finally wrapped around the watch, and Dairu spoke. "Should I let go, Hevlaska?"

Hevlaska shook back and forth twice, seemingly a 'no'. "No, that... will not be needed..." She was right. The clock was shaking inside her grip, and out came the Innocence. It expanded as it appeared, forming into a normal-sized Innocence orb. The orb stayed in the appendage, but removed itself cleanly from the watch. The watch fell slack again as Hevlaska let go, leaving Dairu to gaze at it for a few seconds. He put the watch away, and continued to watch the Innocence closely. Another appendage leaned forward, and it got closer to Dairu. Dairu was surprised, and almost stepped back. However, his urge to learn more kept him in place, but raising his head back to look at a different angle. "I will... need a few drops... of your blood, please..." The appendage came forward, and stopped in front of Dairu.

Dairu began looking in his pocket for a sharp object or something, but remembered Joseph. "Joseph! Lanciarmi il suo coltello!" He yelled for Joseph to throw him his knife, and Joseph quickly unhilted it from his leg and tossed it over. Dairu caught it, and carefully sliced his finger open, allowing for blood to come out. He held his hand over Hevlaska's appendage, and let the blood drop in. The blood dropped carefully as Dairu applied some pressure to his pulse, trying to force an even amount out. When six drops of red blood fell into the appendage and began to swirl around, now in a dark ball being manipulated, Hevlaska's appendage pulled back.

"Thank you... now, for the transformation..." The blood swirled up into Hevlaska, and the Innocence soon followed. They were both now inside Hevlaska, whom was so bright that the transformation could barely have been seen. However, it was clear what was happening inside. The blood was wrapping around the Innocence, and beginning to transform with it. The ball, now darkened by the blood, began to convulse and distort. The red-black ball expanded to the size of a bush, and began to shine inside. "Transformation... complete..." Hevlaska muttered, and an appendage raised towards the platform. As if on cue, the sphere followed, but its dark shield was breaking bit like bit like dry and dead skin. The ball, now dominantly white with black remnants of the shield on it, stopped right in front of Dairu, the ball completely illuminating him. "Stick your hands... in, to receive your... anti-Akuma weapon. I will... judge your sync level." Dairu nodded, but moved slow with some caution, unsure about the sphere itself. Hevlaska noticed, and spoke up. "If you are... not prepared to sync with the weapon, it... will not sync with you... and it will not invocate. You must... take it out of the... sphere, with the intent, and... courage to use it."

Dairu blinked. _She's right... who would work for a coward? _He took a breath, and shook himself out of his grip of fear and uncertainty. "Yes, you're right. I'm sorry."

"Do not be sorry... be brave." Lenalee suggested from the platform. "Let go of your fear, and go in with the confidence that you know will get you through to the weapon."

Taken aback, Dairu stared at Lenalee, but nodded after a few seconds of absorbing her words. "Right!" He turned back, and stood closer to the sphere. He breathed in, and let his adrenaline take over. _I **will** be able to take the weapon out, I **will** become an Exorcist, and I **will** fight to avenge the souls of all whom have died, especially yours, sir!_He shouted this inside his head, and with a picture of his old teacher in his mind, he stabbed his arms inside of the sphere. The sphere resisted him at first, but Dairu kept moving forward. "I **WILL!"** He yelled, and felt something inside. _A handle! The weapon!_ He grabbed the handle, and began to pull. The ball screeched in resistance, but slowly and surely the weapon came out.

Hevlaska began to mutter to herself, counting. "Seven percent... ten percent... fifteen percent..." She continued to count up with no particular order, until Dairu was successful. The weapon slid out of the sphere, revealing itself to being a glove with metal plates attached to the fingers and the knuckles. The glove was connected to a large ring that wrapped around his wrist; the wrist-band acted like a director of sorts. Attached to the giant ring on his wrist, a chain trailed the way to a small piece of metal, a sort of sword, perhaps? It was much too short to be any sort of sword or knife, so maybe it was merely a tool for killing? As Dairu held the glove and weapon in amazement, Hevlaska let out a final number, "Sixty percent."

Komui clapped, excitedly. "Excellent, Dairu! Excellent! Your synchronization rate is sixty! Not a bad rate at all!" Komui ran up from the group, going to Dairu's side, putting a hand on his shoulder. "So that's your weapon un-invoked, huh? Very interesting..." He picked up Dairu's hand, looking to him for permission to examine the equipment-type.

"Erm, sure, go ahead, Chief."

Komui nodded, and looked at the glove. It wasn't that noticeable; there were plenty of gauntlets used as decoration and sometimes as weapons. However, the ring, the chain, and the blade were all very noticeable. Komui examined them for a second, and brought up an image of an Exorcist uniform in his mind. He mulled over the design for a moment, considering how Dairu would move and how the chained weapon would work. Then, he got it; He snapped his fingers to prove his point. "Dairu, when your uniform is being designed, ask them to include a holster on the left side of your body; the blade will fit in there, and your right arm will be left free to be able to grab for it for, what I assume will be, full potency."

Dairu rubbed his chin, looking at the blade, and practiced once with a mentally-designed holster on his left thigh, using his right arm to pull it 'out'. "I agree, Chief. It should be easier to do it that way."

Komui nodded. "Now, for the next weapon transformation..." He looked to the group, mentally picking whom should go next. "Ah, yes. Yoko Kyoukan, if you may."

Yoko looked hesitant at first, but walked forward, remembering Lenalee's words. _I'll probably go through worse, anyways..._She thought, remembering the Akuma attack in the woods. _A LOT worse..._Dairu placed a hand on her shoulder, nodding. He handed her Joseph's knife, for the later part of the creation. Yoko nodded back, and held the knife in one hand, and stepped forward to Hevlaska, waiting for the instructions.

"Take your Innocence out... and hold it forward, Miss Kyoukan..." Hevlaska instructed.

Yoko looked to her arm, and pulled up her sleeve. The armband was still there, but was, like the watch, glowing with new-found luminosity. It shone with the brilliance of the moon but with the gentleness of a star. Yoko unstrapped the armband and held it out. Immediately, as the armband was held out, the Innocence burst from it's smooth form. Hevlaska's appendage attracted the Innocence inside. "And now is the blood... Er, sacrifice, right?"

Hevlaska swayed. "Yes, but... it is not a sacrifice, but... a bond. Your blood sustains... the weapon, and it combines with... the Innocence. You are not... sacrificing, but merely making... a new bond."

"A... a bond...?" Yoko whispered, turning to the knife, then her hand.

"Yes. The Innocence will live with you, and fight with you, and die with you, as long as your bond is maintained. Both of you will live as one, even if for but a few seconds in battle. You will live as one." Came the voice of Komui, unfitting sullen and dark. Inside, Komui knew the code all too well. The code of conduct for an Exorcist. "As long as the user and the Innocence are intertwined, they will fight together as Exorcist and anti-Akuma weapon, and fight for the security of God."

Yoko breathed in, muttering. "Intertwined..." _To fight for God... to fight with the Innocence... is that what I really want to do? Do I... really want to fight for the rest of my life?_ She looked deep inside herself. Her friends came to mind, but also did come her memories of Greece, of one of her closest friends, one of the only two in the world she considered a sister. _Princess Elysia... I will fight for you, Elysia! I will not let them hurt you, or anyone anymore!_With the fire burning inside of her no longer affronted by this cold sense of being alone, and turning to full flame, she brought the knife forward, and cut her finger. The blood dripped into the appendage, and the same transformation began. After a minute of re-coloring, the Innocence turned into a black sphere, identical to the last sphere that was Dairu's Innocence. The sphere began to crack, as to be predicted. However, it was _larger_than Dairu's, much, much larger.

Yoshimata was startled. "It's bigger?!"

Nodding, Lenalee answered his perplexity. "Yes, weapons are shaped entirely different from each other. We do not know if it's from the Innocence or from the creation of the weapons and their different Exorcist-users."

"Amazing..." Yoshimata whispered.

The sphere, now broken out of its black shell and into its non-tangible white form, began to quickly travel down the appendage towards Yoko. It reached her in a few seconds, and the appendage brought the humongous sphere up to Yoko. Hevlaska looked down to the new Exorcist, and spoke softly. "Are you ready, Miss Kyoukan?"

Yoko nodded with courage. "Yes, I am."

Looking into her eyes for a moment, Hevlaska finally nodded. "Than begin."

She stepped back, and surged forward with momentum, slamming both her arms in. She met fierce resistance from the white light around the weapon, fighting slowly by sheer effort to get to the weapon inside. She lerched forward with a leap of strength, and finally grabbed onto something. "I- I've got it!" Yoko pulled and pulled, until finally out her weapon came, uninvoked. Her weapon was...

... a stick ...

As she stared in dumbfound, Joseph burst out laughing from the group on the platform. Dairu was hiding a smile by pretending to rub his chin, and Yoshimata was looking entirely another way, into the darkness with no particular point. "Shut up!" Yoko yelled at them, threatening them with the stick.

Yoshimata shook his head while he looked away to clear his mind, and wrapped his arms around Joseph and Dairu's necks. "I agree with Yoko, guys. These weapons... these 'Innocence'. There is more to them than meets the eye. That, I think we can agree on."

Komui nodded. "You're right, Yoshimata. When anti-Akuma weapons are not activated, or 'invocated', they are in one form or another. When first created, the weapon and the user cannot simply activate together; they must train together for a time, to utilize their bond and their sync rate. Only then, will an Exorcist and a weapon begin their journey together." He walked forward, and put his hand on Yoko's shoulder. "Don't look down upon the weapon, or yourself. When you begin your training, the weapon will reveal it's true form. Trust me."

Yoko blinked, and nodded. "Yes, Chief."

Hevlaska's appendages formed into smaller appendages, and morphed into the staff. Hevlaska began to slowly count up in percent. "Ten percent... thirty seven percent... fifty two percent... seventy percent. Your synchronization level is seventy percent."

Komui nodded. "Seventy percent. Very good; you'll be able to synchronize much easier than Dairu."

Yoko took the staff, which was nearly six feet tall, and walked over to the group. While she walked into the fold, she stepped on Joseph's foot, causing him to nearly shriek in pure pain. Yoko looked away, as if she did nothing wrong of the sort. Komui, Lenalee, and Yoshimata sweat-dropped all at once. Dairu was stepping a little bit away, trying to avoid Yoko's wrath. Sami stayed close to her friend, trying to get a better look at the weapon. Komui smiled weakly. _She's couragious and not afraid to do what she thinks is right. That's great. _Komui looked to Joseph, and waved. "Come on, now. It's your turn."

Joseph walked forward, muttering in Italian and rubbing his leg to ease the pain of his foot. The thirteen-year old picked up his Innocence-engraved knife from the platform floor, and held it up towards Hevlaska. "Così, Hevlaska... lei vuole che la palla brucia nel mio coltello? ?"

Everyone looked to Dairu, including Hevlaska. Dairu blinked in surprise at everyone looking towards him, uncomfortable. "Uhm, what?"

"You're supposed to translate for him, right?" Lenalee asked.

"Oh! Yeah! Sorry." He cleared his throat, and stepped forward and voiced the Italian - to - English translation. "'So, Hevlaska... you want the ball burning in my knife?'" Dairu rubbed his chin after translating. "He means the Innocence, I think." Dairu walked over to Joseph, and put a hand on his shoulder. "È questo vero, Joseph? Lei prova di dire l' "Innocenza"?" Joseph nodded in confirmation. Dairu turned back. "Yup, he means the Innocence."

Joseph held his knife forward, and repeated Dairu's point. "Innocenza, Hevlaska." The appendages came forward, and they took hold of the knife. They encroached the knife, and it disappeared into them. Joseph followed, with his eyes, the path of the knife. It sped up into Hevlaska's body, and began to transform into a slightly larger sphere.

"The blood bond... is now required." Hevlaska informed Dairu, indicating to translate.

Dairu leaned into Joseph's ear, and whispered. "Usare il suo che lavorando coltello di fare un taglio piccolo sul sua dito, Joseph. Il vincolo di sangue è ora richiesto di creare la sua arma." ('Use your working knife to make a small cut on your finger, Joseph. The blood bond is now required to create your weapon.')

Joseph looked to his finger; he witnessed the self-inflicted injury that Yoko and Dairu did to themselves, and he was unsure if he was capable of the same kind of courage. "Andare avanti, non essere timido. Lo Yoko e l'ho fatto appena, e siamo belli, la destra?" ('Go ahead, don't be shy. Yoko and I just did it, and we're fine, right?')

Joseph nodded, "Sì." He did as he was told, and followed the translated words of Lenalee from before. He breathed in, and breathed out roughly, beginning to muster all of his courage into his hands. He took the small knife from his back pocket, and held it in his right hand. He held it to his left hand's index finger, and he slowly began to cut it. The pain was quick and very excruciating, but after he finished the cut the pain was merely a minor annoyance now. He was swept up in his adrenaline, and he began to follow the instructions. He held his hand out, and he allowed his blood to drop slowly into one of Hevlaska's appendages. The blood made small drops that resonated on the illuminating surface like water-drips, and as soon as they settled on the light, they began to swiftly move towards' Hevlaska's center. There, they swirled around the Innocence-sphere, and they began intertwined. As the rest, the sphere expanded with its new, darker shell, and began to move slowly towards the platform once more. The sphere was not as large as either Dairu's nor Yoko's; it was as big as perhaps a dog. However, Joseph paid no mind to it. His mind was focused in a one-track way on the black shell, waiting for it to begin to break.

After a minute of traveling, it did. The shell began to break and shatter into pieces, and it was only half-way towards the platform. As its shell shattered and broke apart, it picked up speed. As soon as the shell was completely broken, the sphere was outside, on the palm of one of the appendages of Hevlaska, held like some sort of valuable monarchy heirlome to Joseph. "Now... reach in and retrieve the weapon." Hevlaska whispered. Nodding, Joseph held up his hands in a poorly executed copy of Yoko's form, and struck his hands inside. Even though it was smaller, it's resistance was fierce against Joseph's intrusion. Slowly, he inched forward and forward, his hair being pushed back like all before him before the oncoming storm of friction against God-matter. A struggle ensued between Joseph and the sphere, until finally, he won. He grabbed onto something, and he yelled in surprised. He began to pull backwards, moving back with the force of friction and allowed himself to be repulsed from the sphere. Out fell Joseph, and in his arms, he had a black shoulder-guard with a brown leather strap. After all of this, Hevlaska completed another count-down. "...Sixty five percent."

"Yoshimata rushed forward, running after Dairu to Joseph's side. Yoshimata held out his hand, and Joseph took it, using him and Dairu to stand up. "It looks like a... shoulder guard?" He said, looking closer at the new anti-Akuma weapon.

"I'd say it is..." Dairu muttered.

Joseph, however, wasn't questionable in the slightest; he looked at the weapon, as if it was something practical, something that was extra special. _And he was right,_ Komui humored in his head._ All anti-Akuma weapons and Innocence's are special in individual strength, and their individual powers. They all look like kids on Christmas' Day, so full of brightness, hope, and eagerness..._ He stepped forward, and he put his hand on Joseph's shoulder. "So... I think it's time we stepped back, Dairu and Joseph."

Dairu looked up, surprised. "Why?"

"Because... it is Yoshimata's turn. However, his procedure will be different. Far different." Komui looked to Hevlaska. "Are you ready, Hevlaska?"

Hevlaska nodded. "I am ready... when he is."

Yoshimata grabbed his necklace, fingering it in aggitation. He stepped forward, and he swallowed his fear and tried his best to be like his friends. _I must be brave. I can't let my friends go... not now, not ever. Not when... not when we just got together._ He spread his hands forward, looking at them. _Innocence... if you can hear me... I will not fail you. I will fight with you, with my new friends in the Black Order, with my old friends, and I will fight..._ He gripped his hand, the steel of his necklace feeling strong. _... I will fight to destroy the Akuma, and the Earl. Even if it costs me my life._ He smirked, and laughed silently. _After all..._ He gulped under his smirk.

_... I have but a monk's life to give._ "I am ready... Hevlaska. Please, let us work together to awaken my Innocence."

**There. Four thousand words. I'll go get some ice for my hands and the fanfiction portion of my brain now. (Believe it or not, Yoshimoto has a brain. Go figure.)**

** Much more next chapter, just wanted to get some things done for this one.  
**


	13. Chapter 13

**So many projects, so little time to work on my fanfic.**

* * *

Yoshimata looked up to Hevlaska with eyes of pure dark blue, whom spoke quietly. "Alright. We shall... begin the re-awakening... operation now." Yoshimata moved his unbroken arm out, as if on an invisible piece of lumber and tied to it. Yoshimata closed his eyes and began to mutter something, possibly a Sudra, in Japanese. The appendages picked Yoshimata up like a doll, pulling the man into mid-air.

Dairu shifted uncomfortably, and Joseph's grip tightened. Sami poked Komui, whom turned around to her attention. "Um, Mr. Chief, will Yoshimata... fall from there?" There was worry in her voice, and she was holding on to her notebook very strongly.

Komui blinked, and answered with a smile. "No, no. Don't worry; there is no possible way he could fall out of Hevlaska's appendages. He'll be alright, trust me."

Dairu sighed in a little relief, and Joseph turned his attention to his new anti-Akuma weapon that Dairu strapped to his shoulder accordingly, to keep it from getting lost. Yoko looked uninterested in Yoshimata's safety at this point, but in secret she was licking her lips in anticipation of wrong-doing. She laid back against the rail of the platform, her weapon in her hand.

Hevlaska breathed in, and breathed out in a resonating breath. "Operation... begin." There was a flash of light inside Hevlaska, and under her the floor that the new Exorcists never thought was there began to glow in astounding luminosity. Her entire body, save for the appendages, began to absorb the light and pulsate slightly, as if a beating heart was her true form. "Commencing..." She muttered, and as on order from her mind, the appendages began to receive slightly large spheres of pure, swirling light that quickly came in at beats of one per four seconds, going at a fairly fast pace. When the first five orbs hit Yoshimata's body, his back arched and his body convulsed for a second; he was gasping for air to somehow stifle the pain that was being sent screaming from his nerve endings.

Dairu stepped forward, now completely concerned with this. "Chief Komui! What is happening to him?!"

Komui adjusted his glasses, and Lenalee looked down, as if embarrassed by something. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you this before... but the Innocence inside Yoshimata may need to be invigorated, like a machine of sorts. However, the key fuel to invigorate his Innocence to awaken is the aura that is excreted by other Innocence, thus, we are essentially packing matter into his body. It is neither solid, nor transparent. It's not liquid nor gas... but it will still cause pain if forced into a body."

Shifting on the handlebars, Yoko looked to Komui with a side-ways glance. "Can't you give him something, anything at all to stifle the pain?"

Lenalee shook her head. "We can't. The nerves in his body have to be active and fully operational, if there is any chance of awakening an Innocence inside of him. If we do give him a sedative... the body-parts with Innocence inside of them may be damaged to the point of it being irreparable."

Dairu rubbed his face, and closed his eyes and all he could do was hope that Yoshimata was truely alright. Yoshimata convulsed again and again, as aura of the Innocence was streamed in and out of his body. His arms twitched, his fingers fidgeting as if on _fire_. Hevlaska spoke again after this two minutes of convulsions and the group's concerns. "Operation... almost complete. Beginning re-awakening of... Innocence." With that being said, Yoshimata let out a strained yell as the light intensified in a seemingly unending climb in a climax of unending and swirling madness. A wind came gusting through the area, but seemed not on it's own accord, but of the acclaim of another. The wind seemed to be following a swirling invisible energy of sorts, and that very energy was forming around Yoshimata. After a minute, the light let go, and Yoshimata's yells of pain began to lessen into breaths of recovery. The wind died with the light as fast as it came, leaving the now seemingly ongoing void of a room in total blackness, save for the light around Hevlaska.

Yoshimata looked up, his eyes seemingly empty of any thought or percise action of being, but he spoke with a grin on his face. "How... how did the operation go?" He barely managed a whisper.

Hevlaska looked down to him, holding the battered boy gently. "It was successful. I... found your Innocence." Chuckling with a seemingly drunk vigor, Yoshimata accepted the good news. Hevlaska gently brought him down from the air, in a gentle flight from her appendages. Dairu and Joseph quickly broke rank of file, and ran to the edge of the platform, and they began to try and predict where he would be put down. Hevlaska let Yoshimata into their supporting grips, and Hevlaska's appendages unwrapped and snaked back into the blackness. Counter-acting Yoshimata's weight on their shoulders and in their arms, they helped him kneel down. Easy to do so, since his legs were barely holding the man up.

Sami poked Yoshimata on the head, whispering. "Yoshi... Yoshi..." She looked for a response from him, but she merely got a small groan and a head shaking at her. She blinked, and smiled. "He's alright!"

Komui and Lenalee sweat-dropped, both thinking the same thing: _He looks like he's about to die, but he's "alright"? What have they possibly gone through?_He stepped forward, and took a look at Yoshimata. "Lets see... he said that he experienced phenomena from his arms. First place to look, then..." Komui gently took the robe sleeves on Yoshimata's tunic, and he pulled them upwards. Carefully he did this, to not aggravate his broken arm. On the hands, there was nothing. On his forearms, there was nothing. Komui pulled the sleeves all the way back to the shoulder, and there they discovered two onyx-black dots. Komui blinked, looking completely perplexed. "This is very... unusual." Komui muttered. "Why are there only two primary dots? Where is his Innocence?"

An idea came from Lenalee. "Hm... perhaps there is more to the transformation then the uninvocated form for this parasite-weapon?"

The chief rubbed his chin. "You're probably right, Lenalee... perhaps..."

Dairu looked shocked, and almost jumped. "Yoshimata! He fainted!" Truth be told by the boy, as Yoshimata's head laid slack, his eyes almost closed leaving thus only white to be shown, and his body limp and a faint breath coming from him.

Komui put a hand to the boy's neck, and felt for a pulse, just to ensure safety. There was one. _Thank God... _Komui sighed in relief. _This was... unprecedented._ "His pulse is still there, and still fairly strong. We should let him rest in the infirmary. Could you guys carry him there?"

Dairu nodded, and waved to Joseph. Taking cue, he helped Dairu support Yoshimata, and pick him up. "Please lead us the way, if you could."

* * *

Allen sweat-dropped, trying to separate himself from a last hug from Johnny. However, joined with Gill, was the rest of the Science Department in the room, whom with all he had formed a strong bond. When the white-haired British boy entered the room with Johnny, Johnny thus yelled out, "Allen's back!" Immediately, the Science Department yelled with combined and over-dramatic joy and, to put it simple, dog-piled him. Receiving many welcomes, Allen finally got the weary-but-now-ecstatic scientists to let go.

_I never knew that I was loved _this_ much in the Science Department..._He pondered with a smile. When he reached a corner in the hallway, he suddenly met two of his new comrades, Dairu and Joseph. And by suddenly, they crash into each other. They fell back, with Joseph shouting an explicative in Italian.

Dairu rubbed his head, looking up. "Ah! Allen!" He said, surprised.

Allen got up, but Dairu didn't get up with him. Neither did Joseph. On their backs, was a knocked-out Yoshimata Hakitawa, sleeping in a daze. "Ah! What happened to him?!" Allen's eyes then turned to Joseph's new addition to his attire, then to Dairu's new gauntlet. It pieced together for Allen. "Oh... your Innocence's were formed into anti-Akuma weapons..." He mumbled.

Dairu breathed out, and looked around the hallways. "Which... which was is to the infirmary? We'd really like to see if Yoshi's okay." He asked.

Allen blinked, and rubbed his head in embarrassment. Allen was, famously, the one to get lost the _most_, and now being asked for directions? Ironic. "Um... I think I saw it on the way from the Science Department, just down the hall."

Dairu nodded, and re-adjusted his hold on Yoshimata, while Joseph was already ready. "Can you lead us the way there?"

Allen sighed, and nodded in return and acceptance of his fate. "Sure, follow me." Together, the three Exorcists brought their unconscious comrade down the hall, from whence Allen came. However, truth be told, they soon found themselves lost, assuredly. A lot had changed over his month of absence; there were new hallways, new departments, new floors, everything! Allen stopped to ask a finder, a group of scientists, and even Chaoji Han where they should go. The finder was just as confused as Allen; he had just returned from a mission to Ethiopia. The scientists were just as confused as the whole group was; they were transferred from Asia Branch just recently. However, the recently-inducted Exorcist Chaoji knew where to go; he pointed the group in the direction of the infirmary with a brief set of directions. They graciously thanked him for his assistance, and finally arrived at the infirmary.

The nurse took him in immediately, and began to see his wounds. "He seems to have suffered a lot of exhaustion recently... what has he been doing for the past few hours?" After they, and by they, I mean Dairu, explained the whole predicament, the nurse nodded in solemn acceptance. "Yes... sometimes the strain is a little bit much on new Exorcists... but a re-activation? That must take a lot of work to synchronize with his body..." She rubbed Yoshimata's head, pushing a few threads of hair away from his face. She looked up to the group, her eyes serious. "Has he received any other prior injuries?"

Dairu blinked, and gasped in shock. "Gah! He has_ a broken left arm!_ I completely forgot!"

The nurse gave a start, and immediately pulled Yoshimata's left shirt sleeve up. She touched the arm with delicate care, to check for any new problems. "This is... unbelievable..." She whispered, a hand going to her mouth.

Allen looked to Yoshimata and back to the nurse. "What is it? What's wrong?"

She looked to them, a bewildered look on her face. "His arm... it's no longer broken. It's completely fixed."

Shocked, Dairu and Joseph yelled in surprise. "H- H- HOW?! His arm is _broken_! We saw it! For truth! He was hurt only a few days ago, how could it be possible that his arm could be healed now?!"

Rubbing his chin, Allen pondered this. This was very strange, indeed. After a moment, he snapped his fingers. "I think I know what happened!" Everyone said 'huh?' in surprise, so Allen elaborated. "You see... his arm's Innocence wasn't activated, so maybe, just maybe, the activation of the Innocence in his arms sped up the healing process in his arm?"

The nurse continued to look at the arm in complete confusion. "Yes, that could be true... well... in any case at all, he won't be waking up any time soon; his body is completely exhausted and needs to rest. So, may you please leave, to give him some room?"

The group of Exorcists' nodded, and they exited the room, but Joseph took one last pained glance before being led off by Dairu's hand on his shoulder.

* * *

Allen looked to Dairu and Joseph, and saw them sigh in discomfort. Allen sweat-dropped, becoming uncertain of what to do here. _Perhaps I should get them something to eat?_He put his hands on their backs, and smiled. "Maybe you'd like to get something to eat now? The cafeteria isn't too far from here, y'know. I could probably get the cook to make you something special, if you want." The magic words were eat, now, and cafeteria. Dairu and Joseph immediately beamed, nearly hugging Allen like children to their favorite uncle. Allen laughed, and they were off to the cafeteria. Again, with the shenanigans required of travel in the new Headquarters, they arrived at the cafeteria, nearly starving to death. They got in line, which was relatively short due to Jerry being a masterful chef.

Once it was their turn, they moved up. Jerry was in mid-way of saying "Next" for the line to move, but when he looked up to look over at the line, his eyes met with Allen's. His voice cracked, and could only mumble the following line. "Al- Alle-"

_Oh man..._ Allen whimpered in his mind, trying to step back. Exactly like the Science Department. The only difference: Jerry is monstrously strong. "I- I miss- missed you too, J- Jerry..." Allen could barely wheeze out, as Jerry was nearly crushing him in a death-grip.

Jerry was babbling now. "You should have told me you came back, you cutie! Oh, this calls for a special treat! Here, have anything on the list!" He let go of Allen, if only to hear his order.

Allen tried to smooth his silver-white hair back into place, smiling weakly. "Well, I'd actually like to ask if you could do a special treat for these two. Y'see, they're new Exorcists that just arrived into the Order, and their friend passed out, so they're feeling kinda down now..."

Jerry looked at the two, whom were over-exaggerating their starvation by pretending to be dead on the floor, reaching feebly for the counter. He laughed, and nodded. "Sure, Allen. I'd be glad to help."

* * *

**T'is to tie you guys over for now. I'll be back with a longer chapter soon enough. This is 2,501 words, easily. I have some important voice-acting projects coming up soon, so I'll be away for the same length of time. I'll keep hatching new ideas, though! :]**


	14. Chapter 14

**Zip, zap, zoopity zap. I'm back, with a vengeance.**

**No, not really. Enjoy this action-less chapter.**

…

**:D**

**Full thanks and credit to Liy, one of my readers, who is now translating English into Italian for our **

**charming, witty and sophisticated chums in this fanfiction. If anyone has any other experience**

**in translating languages, drop a line!  
**

* * *

_Three days..._Allen whispered in his mind, looking down at Yoshimata. _He's been unconscious for three whole days now._It was the truth. He tried to get Joseph, Dairu, and Sami to do _anything_ at all; getting their measurements done for their uniforms, practicing their new anti-Akuma weapons, even small-talk. Nothing worked! Nothing! They came in and out of the infirmary, stopping their for a few minutes to sit by Yoshimata. Dairu held his hand once, and muttered something incoherent in German and afterwards in what Allen could only describe as Arabic. Joseph simply sat next to Yoshimata, either eating something or twiddling his thumbs, his gaze unflinching. Both of them seemed... disturbed by this. Almost perplexed, if you will. Had they never seen Yoshimata like this before?

Sami came less often then they did, but she did visit sometimes. She sometimes tried to draw something in her journal, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it. Allen asked her what was wrong, and she shrugged in response. "I guess... I just can't draw him asleep. I guess I just like to draw things that are awake, is all." Allen took her word for it, and left on that day.

He came down here, because someone was needed to watch Yoshimata, in case anything happened. He was out for three days, and the nurse and Komui were both very concerned about this. Komui approached Allen in the hallway, and took him aside. Allen was confused, so Komui had to explain. "I'm very nervous, Allen. Yoshimata has been out for almost half a week. The newest Exorcists won't even do anything since he's been out. I want you to monitor his sleeping pattern, just for tonight." Allen couldn't refuse.

He has been sitting her for an hour now, quietly watching him sleep. He was bored, yes, but he had to do it. But now... Yoshimata was stirring in his bed. Not waking, no, but muttering incoherently. Allen leaned forward to listen, but he couldn't hear what he was mumbling. Suddenly, out of no where, Yoshimata's arm gripped the bed-sheet, his voice growing a little bit louder. Now, Allen fully understood what he was saying: _Help me, please._Allen had no idea what to do now, he was totally unprepared for this! "Yoshimata, are you in pain?" Allen tried to whisper into his ear, but Yoshimata's voice grew strained, as if he was being tortured. "Yoshimata?! What's **wrong**?!" Allen got up, and opened the door to the main room for the infirmary. All he could do was yell out of desperation, "Nurse! Something's wrong with him!"

* * *

_It's dark now... I can't see a thing..._In a midst of shadow and a fog, Yoshimata stood. However, he knew exactly where he was: a dense forest in Korea. _No... no..._ he whispered, his heart racing now. He began to step backwards, looking anxiously and fearfully into the night's fog. There was nothing there he could see, but endless trees and bush. He began to speed up his pace.

"I have to get out of here... I have to leave... anywhere! Anywhere at all!" He began to whimper. His breathing was strained now, but he couldn't understand why. He put a hand on a tree, and put a hand to his head to wipe off the sweat on his brow. But he didn't meet sweat; he met his own blood. "Wh- what?!" He gasped, and he fell backwards into a river-bed. The water splashed him, and only now did he notice that... he was much smaller then he remembered. He looked into the water, and as it cleared, his heart screamed in agony, in sheer terror as he came to the realization that-

* * *

He woke up. Yoshimata's eyelids lifted heavily, and he breathed in and out to steady himself. His vision was blurred, but soon he saw what was before him. Over him, he saw a shock of white hair, gray-eyes, and a red tattoo. He remembered now where he was. "Ah... Allen..." He muttered, trying to raise his arm, but lacked the strength to do so.

"Be careful, you've been out for three days." The experienced Exorcist replied. "Now that you've woken up, the nurse wants you to eat as soon as possible. Do you think you could eat?"

Trying to decide, Yoshimata gulped; nothing hurt in his throat. He nodded, licking his lips. "Yes, I can eat."

Allen sighed in relief. "Ah, thank goodness..." He rubbed his eyes in exhaustion, and yawned. "Once you're done eating, I'll help you take a walk to your room. We can only hope that nothing went wrong during the re-awakening operation." He looked around, and found the food tray. "Well, here we go."

* * *

Standing in the middle of the forest, Yoko was taking a walk with Sami. Sami was humming cheerfully, trying to find the right bird to paint. Yoko was preoccupied with her weapon, spinning it in her hands like some sort of spear. "Sami, I wonder... what _is_ this stick supposed to be?"

Sami blinked, and shrugged. "Maybe it's... some sort of wand?" She looked back, and saw a flower. "Ah! Hana!" Sami rushed over to the flower, and began to draw it in her notebook.

Putting a hand to her temples, Yoko sighed. "You're such an airhead sometimes..."

Sami giggled, and shook her head. "Nope; I just like to have lots of fun!" She continued drawing, but followed up on her statement. "Maybe you should try it sometime, Yoko-tan."

Stamping her foot, Yoko nearly yelled. "I thought I told you to never call me by pet-names and nicknames."

Sami laughed, and stood up, finished drawing the flower. "But it's so much fun!" The wind came through the forest, and the leaves began to rattle and rustle in the trees and bushes. However, Sami looked at the ground, looking at the leaves at her feet. "Huh... Yoko-pan, look at these leaves..."

Yoko gripped her fist. "I **TOLD **you-..." She opened her eyes, and saw Sami crouched at the ground. "What in the hell?" She bent down besides Sami, and looked at the leaf in her hand.

"See, Yoko... it's cut in half _completely_...." She held it up for Yoko to get a better look. "It wasn't ripped; it's too clean and there is no rugged edge on it anywhere."

Yoko took it, and felt the edge of the leaf. "You're right... it's not serrated... this was definitely cut in half by something... but what?" Yoko stood up, and her ears twitched slightly. She was listening to the wind. She closed her eyes, and the wind blew again. Faintly, but it was there, she heard the sound of wind being cut through by something fast. The sound was coming from... the wind gusted again, and the sound appeared once more. "They're coming from that way!" She pointed into the forest, and both of them began to silently try and sneak up on the sounds. It took them a minute, but they found a small path filled with roots and rocks and knocked-down trees. Well, not knocked down. They were all cut in _half_. There was remains of leafs everywhere on the path; all over the logs and all over the trunks of the trees, even in the air.

"Yoko, what do you thi-" Sami started to say, but Yoko put a hand to Sami's mouth to quiet her down. She pointed to the air, and mouthed the words _Wait and Watch _to Sami. Sami initially pouted, but then looked again. The wind, for the uncountable time, picked up, and the leaves entered the air. Out like a torpedo came a shadow that, with what seemed it's hand, destroyed the cluster of leaves in the air. It landed on the ground without fail, and the shadow stood up in a human form. "That's..." Sami whispered in amazement.

Yu Kanda was standing in the clearing, his katana sheathed. He had only the bottom-tunic dress of his uniform, while his upper-shirt was yet to be seen. He let the sheath, with his sword, now slack on his side, and they could hear him faintly mutter to himself, "That's enough for today..." He picked himself up, and he exited into the forest, leaving the path and the two girls behind.

Yoko breathed out, whispering, "... Amazing_..." His style... his grace... his sword... they're all combined and... perfect._ She did everything in her power to not follow him, since she knew from past-experiences that he did not like to be followed without his knowledge. Or, being followed in general.

Sami looked down at her notebook. In all that time that she was watching, she was trying to draw down the movements that were happening. Her eyes, as sharp as they are, couldn't even _begin_ to follow the movements. "You're right... he is amazing. I couldn't even follow him." Yoko and Sami simply sat where they were, nothing left to do. Sami looked up, and smiled. "Well, how's about we go back, Yoko-tan? We can go see if Dairu and Joseph got into any trouble while we were gone."

"I told you..." Yoko growled, but breathed in and let the tension go. "Okay, Sami. You win. For now."

Sami giggled, and let out a 'Yay!' as they left down the path.

* * *

Allen walked out of the room for a moment, and looked for the nurse. He found her. "Excuse me, nurse... he's finally eaten, now we need to talk him out for a walk. Do you have a cane of some sorts...?"

The nurse rubbed her chin, and nodded. "Yes, follow me." She led him to a closet, and inside there was a walk-in stockpile of bandages, medicines, medications, and so on. She reached to a top-shelf, and she pulled out a simple but still elegant cane with a curved top for a hand. She handed the cane to Allen, whom immediately brought to Yoshimata.

Slowly and steadily, Yoshimata was able to support himself on the cane. Allen helped him out of the office, and took him to the gate to leave the castle for fresher air. When the gate opened, Yoshimata let out a very exhausted "Aw shit." Allen was confused, and looked outside the gate. There, Sami and Yoko were standing. Sami was starting to shake, but Allen didn't know why. "Allen... move out of the way." Yoshimata whispered.

Blinking, Allen responded. "Why? What's wrong?"

As soon as this was said, Allen met Yoshimata's hell in a hand basket. Sami launched herself, yelling "YOSHI-CHAN!" at the top of her lungs, completely glomping Yoshimata despite his injuries. Watching, Allen and Yoko could only sweat-drop at the ridiculousness of this all.

Yoshimata could only laugh, albeit strained from the force of the glomp. He managed to get out, "Yes, Sami, I missed you too. But could you please get off me? I want to walk." Sami stopped the death-grip of... well, death, and merely smiled, pat Yoshimata on the top of the head, and got off him. Yoshimata got his cane, and brought himself up from the ground. He put a hand through his hair, and continued to speak. "So... I hear you guys refusing to allow your measurements be taken?" He gave her a sort of suspicious look.

She looked up, kicking an imaginary rock. "Well, Yoshi, we just wanted to wait for you, y'know? We all agreed together to do this all together, right?"

Taken aback, Yoshimata blinked for a few seconds and smiled and nodded. "Yeah, we did, didn't we?" He bowed his head slightly, as a 'thank you'. His grip on the cane tightened slightly, but he continued talking. "Now that I'm awake, let's go get the two moronic-food black-holes and let's get our uniforms, shall we?"

From across the hallway, they heard a loud laugh, and a response. "Don't bother! We already found _you_!" It was Dairu! He was with Joseph, and, surprisingly, Lavi. They seemed to be pretty-closely knit together.

Joseph's pace came forward, and he yelled in Italian, "E chi stai chiamando idiota, idiota?!"

Dairu immediately translated. "'And who're you calling an idiot, idiot?' is what he just said. Come now, Joseph. Be nice to Yoshi. We all know he means well."

"Sì? Beh, quel pervertito è solo uno spreco di spazio..." Joseph muttered, looking around. He claimed that the 'pervert' was a waste of space.

After the group united, Allen told them that they would find Johnny Gill in the Science Department, but he forewarned them, along with Lavi as the comical side-teller, that Johnny tends to go over-board with his persistance in gaining measurements. Creeped out, Joseph, Dairu and Sami shivered. Yoshimata nodded, and Yoko shrugged it off. Lavi noticed, and smiled. "Well, just remember, Yoko. You were warned."

"Whatever you say." Was her only response. They left the company of Allen and Lavi, and Yoko led the way to the Science Department, since she was the only one who could remember anything. Sami was always too busy drawing and was too hyper to remember a thing, Dairu and Joseph were gluttons without the mass, thus leading them to remembering where the cafeteria was, and only that. Yoshimata was knocked out, so he has an excuse for his folly. Once they reached the Science Department, they were greeted by some scientists, however many of them were already passed out.

Yoshimata was both surprised and confused at the sight of the collapsed men, but Reever came to explain, out of the pile of his work. "Y'see, we do a_ lot_ of work, around the clock."

A scientist moaned from under a mountain of books, raising his hand for salvation. "Non-stop..."

Yoshimata sweat-dropped, and looked around. "Is Johnny Gill around here?" A new groan came from a desk next to Dairu, whom uncovered the comical-near-death Johnny Gill. Sami came over, and poked him in the head. Dairu and Joseph tried to dig him out of the book-mountain, while Yoshimata walked up to him. "Johnny? We're here because we were told you would do our measurements for our uniforms."

Arrise! As if these words were muttered by God himself, Johnny rose from his sullen state, his eyes now glowing with over-excitement. Reever saw this, and he yelled over to all the scientists in the room, "Get down! Johnny's gonna take measurements!" All in bravado, the scientists went to their hiding places, either under a desk or a pile of books, they all hid from Johnny. Now, however, the new Exorcists were fearing for their lives.

Giggling with joy, Johnny could save only mutter, "Did you say ... **_measurements?!_**"

Joseph could only mutter a single plead for mercy in Italian. "Per favore... abbi pietà..." And thus, as Allen and Lavi's warnings were ignored as nothing but sod, and with delay in trying to hide, the new Exorcists discovered what hell _really_ was.

* * *

**Was this chapter that bad? Could y'all tell me if it was bad, funny, too short, or just right? Please? We're up to the fourteenth chapter, and barely anything has happened. :(**


	15. Chapter 15: Part One

**Here's a spontaneous action chapter for you all. GOD, I've waited for action as much as you guys have.**

**Long-ass chapter, this is. Better get some popcorn. This will be split up into several parts. They will be Chapter 15: Part One, Part two, etc. **

**SO WHEN THE CHAPTER STOPS, GO ON TO THE NEXT 'CHAPTER'.**

* * *

After half an hour of grueling torture in measurements, Johnny flew off to help create the new uniforms for the Exorcists. Yoshimata was sitting in a chair, due to he still feeling the effects of fatigue. Sami was poking Joseph in the head, whom was passed out with exhaustion; Dairu was talking casually with Yoko, so he didn't bother listening to Joseph's pleads to make Sami stop. Yoshimata breathed in, almost heavily, and spoke. "They were right..."

Sami looked up to Yoshimata, "Who, Yoshi-chan?"

He went inside of his robes, and pulled out a necklace. He silently held the symbol in his hand, "Allen and Lavi. That... was just pure evil."

Yoko nodded, both she and Dairu turning to the other conversation, "I agree. Let us never talk about it ever again. All in favor?"

"Aye." Yoshimata lifted a glass of water from the table next to him.

"Hai." Sami muttered, drawing a cartoon teddy bear in her book.

"Agreed." Sat back, raised hand in confirmation was Dairu in this counsel.

"S... Si.." Mumbled Joseph, whom was still on the floor. Dairu marched over to Joseph, and tried to help us friend up.

Just as they were about to succeed, however, Komui bashed open the Science Department's door, and lyrically yelled inside. "How is everyone doing today?!" This was yelled, and the whole graveyard of scientists groaned and moaned in sheer, frontal agony. A book came flying from a book mountain, and nearly gave Komui a piece of its mind. "Ah!" Yelled Komui in surprise, expertly ducking the book. "Who threw that?!" He ordered, looking around for the culprit. In fabulous orchestrated manner, the whole Science Department raised their hands.

Reever, regaining some of his strength, managed to climb out of a mountain of books. "Chief, what are you doing here? You're usually in your office."

Nodding, "I know, but I just wanted to come down here to make sure our new Exorcists are alright so far." He walked over to Yoshimata, and looked into his eyes with a slightly humored grin and a twinkle of small evil in his eyes. "Are you able to move fast yet, Yoshimata?"

Sweat-dropping, Yoshimata replied. "Erm, I think I might be able to soon... but why do you ask, Chief Komui?" He put his hand on his cane, becoming very, very uncomfortable.

"Once the uniforms are made, we will begin you training as Exorcists by having all of you duel one-on-one against some of our current Exorcists, such as Allen and Lavi." Komui adjusted his glasses. "As Exorcists, you can re-adjust any fighting-style you already know to your advantage. You are not restricted to using your anti-Akuma weapon's to fight. The round will go on for five minutes each, or until there is a clear winner in the matter. Remember, this is only training; I will not allow _anyone_ to get hurt, do you all understand?" All of them nodded. Komui sighed, putting a hand to his head. _Good..._ "Alright, so we will contact you all again when the uniforms are made, so go off and do whatever you'd like until then."

* * *

An hour passed, and henceforth they were called once more, but this time to Komui's office. There, they were greeted by Komui, and a very estranged Johnny Gill. Johnny handed each of the new Exorcist's boxes, and inside there was black and red-trimmed uniforms. Yoshimata opened his, and everything he wanted was in there; a sort of robe-like overcoat that was attachable to the uniform, along with a customized Symbol of the Eight-fold Path on his left arm. He smiled, and bowed in thanks to Johnny Gill. Sami did not want much, so Johnny gave her a costume much similar to Miranda Lotto's, another Exorcist in the Order. Yoko recieved a uniform with a skirt that went down to her knees, but was made so that she could move around faster and not get caught up. Dairu received exactly as to what Komui suggested him for; a regular uniform with a customized holster for his weapon's dagger. Joseph simply got a standard uniform, but it was adjusted so his anti-Akuma weapon can be fit onto his shoulder at any time, at ease. They all thanked Johnny, albeit cautiously, for his work on their uniforms. Komui told them to go to their rooms and change into these uniforms, and gave them directions for their first training. They all arrived at the large room that, to their surprise, was completely re-modeled to look like a battle-field. The room had large rocks, dead trees, and sand for terrain.

Dairu was completely amazed at the sight before him, "Chief Komui... how did you even manage to create this?! This... this is completely amazing!"

Komui laughed cheerfully, and nodded. "We began working on this two days ago, and we finished a few hours ago. This room was unused, so we had the liberty to transform it into whatever we needed, thus, we created it for the training of Exorcists and, perhaps later, Finders." Komui adjusted his glasses, and continued. "Your opponents will be Allen, Lavi, Lenalee, Kanda, and Arystar Krory."

Joseph blinked in surprise. Yoko looked around at the group, but there were only the ones they've met before. "Erm, Komui, where is this... Arystar Krory?"

"He's currently getting prepared for his fight; he has a particular Innocence that requires him some... preparations for. Thus, we'll continue as followed. Now, your first lesson is to how to activate your Innocence. Your Innocence is part of you, either it be actual, through the parasite-type, or spiritually, as equipment. You need to trust in your Innocence, and yourself, and you will be able to control it to be able to fight the Akuma. You can say, or simply think, the word 'Invocation'. The word embodies activation of your weapon, and your weapon will transform from its original form. This doesn't apply to everyone, however." Komui took a sip of his coffee, and continued. "First, we'll demonstrate an equipment-type invocation. Lavi?" He turned his attention to the red-headed Exorcist-Bookman trainee, whom nodded.

He stood forward, and pulled out his hammer from its holster. "Invocate!" He muttered, and he lightly swung the hammer, and as such, it grew larger. "My Innocence grows from its little size to a larger size, but I can hold it freely since I am its accommodator. If anyone else tried to hold it, it would most likely be too heavy for them to wield, so that gives me an advantage in a fight: fast speed and heavy hits."

Komui gave his approval, and turned to Allen. "Now, let's show them how a parasite-type transforms. Allen, if you may?"

Allen nodded, and stepped forward. He held out his left arm, and he pulled off the glove. His entire hand, going down into his sleeve and all the way to the shoulder, was pure black. He, as well, said "Invocate!" His sleeve retreated like a snake into his uniform, and his entire arm transformed; his arm became slender, and his fingers gained sharp, almost sword-like claws. Out of his arm, came a cowl. The cowl rested comfortably along his shoulder, and inside the cowl was a mask that rested on his back. Allen held up his Innocence-arm, showing it to them. "This is my Innocence: The Crown Clown. It's a parasitic-type like yours, Yoshimata." Komui nodded in approval, but his thoughts were other-wise. _We should just do this for a general example; they'll learn about the Crystal-type later._ Komui stepped forward once more, and looked to Yoko. "Perhaps you should give it a try first?"

Yoko looked to him, and then to her Innocence. She held it firmly in her hands, but she was still apprehensive about it. All of this... this... magic or whatever, it was so new! _Should I duck or something? What if it comes out, and chops my head off?! _She breathed in, and she nearly yelled inside her mind, _Invocation!_ She kept her eyes closed during so, but she opened them. Nothing happened to the Innocence.

Komui looked at Yoko's Innocence strangely, perplexed. Joseph seemed startled, and pointed at the Innocence. He whispered into Dairu's ear, and he turned his attention to the Innocence as well. "You're right, Joseph..." He then called over to Yoko. "Hey! Yoko!" Yoko turned to him. "There's some kind of notch that's glowing! On the top of your Innocence; on the side!"

Komui looked over Yoko's shoulder, and Yoko twisted the Innocence around. There it was, a line going for about five inches down the stick. "Is it... some kind of gun or something?" Yoko whispered, even _more_ confused.

Komui shook his head, and scratched his chin. After a moment of thinking, he got it. "Maybe that will work..." He looked over to Kanda. "Kanda, could you come over here for a second? I think this Innocence activates sort of like your Mugen."

Kanda looked up from his almost-nap from sheer boredom, and grunted quietly. He got up, and walked over to Yoko. "Alright, fine. But I'm only going to show her once, you got that?" Yoko nodded, and inside her, her inner Kanda-fangirl whispered _He's talking to me...!_ Kanda walked closer, and took a hold of her Innocence to examine for himself. After a moment, he understood, and started to correct Yoko's posture. "Your Innocence will only appear if you put your hand on the notch right here." He took her by the wrist, and he put the side of her left hand on the notch. "Now, you need to bring your hand out in a quick motion to activate your weapon." He gently brought her hand away from the Innocence, and truth be told by the eighteen year-old, the Innocence appeared. He took hold of it, and slammed the butt of the stick on the ground, creating an echo. "So, it isn't just a stick after all... it's a scythe."

Dairu and Joseph were watching from the side-lines, amazed. Sami was quickly drawing this down, both for teasing Yoko later and also because she was impressed by the scythe. Yoshimata was resting his head on the head of his cane, smiling with a weary, almost stupid, look on his face. Kanda looked down on Yoko, and Yoko suddenly realized that he was waiting for her to take the scythe back. She quickly took the weapon, which almost felt lighter then air. _But... it looked like Kanda had to work to straight i- Oh, right... Lavi said that his Innocence was lighter when he held it, so mine must be the same!_ She bowed slightly, muttering, "Thank you very much."

Kanda shrugged, "Tsk." And walked back to where Allen, Lenalee and Lavi were standing in line.

"You seemed very comfortable over there, Kanda." Allen teased, causing Lavi to laugh out loud.

"Shut it, bean sprout." Kanda muttered; his usual grumpiness turning into murderous intent.

"I _told_ you, I'm not a bea- !" Allen almost yelled out in protest, but Komui held his hand up, declaring, "Next up is Joseph Colombo!"

Joseph stepped out of line, but Dairu followed in suit. He shrugged, smiling. "I've gotta translate, after all." They stood in front of Komui, whom looked to Dairu. "Did you translate all the instructions to him?" Dairu nodded, and Komui smiled. "Good. So now, we'll see what his Innocence is all about."

Yoko walked back to the group of now Yoshimata and Sami. Sami looked at the scythe, which seemed to almost glow in a sense. Yoshimata was looking over at Joseph and Dairu, rubbing his chin. "I wonder what Joseph's Innocence will be..."

Sami looked to Yoshimata, and looked up to think about it for a moment. "Um... maybe it will cover his whole body in armor?"

Yoko shook her head. "Nah, maybe some kind of creepy shield."

Yoshimata shrugged, and sat up straight on the rock. "Whatever it will be, I hope Joseph will be smart enough to handle it."

Joseph looked to Dairu, whom nodded to him to begin. Joseph blinked, and did the same breathing-routine as Yoko. He closed his eyes, not wanting to look, and said, "_Invocation."_ His shoulder-guard Innocence shone with energy, and flashed for a second. Joseph felt... strange. Something has changed. He kept his eyes close, and he felt his arm. _Is that the problem?_ He moved up his arm, but felt nothing strange. That is, until he got to his shoulder. Yoshimata yelled from the side-lines, "Joseph! It's on your shoulder!" That caused Joseph to immediately swipe at his shoulder, and then he felt it. His eyes opened, and his heart nearly stopped in fear: there was a hilt coming out of his shoulder. "Cos'è questo??!" He yelled, and fell back. Dairu caught him, and helped him keep his balance.

"Easy now, Joseph. It's your Innocence, it won't hurt you." Dairu helped prop Joseph up and tried to touch the anti-Akuma weapon that was protruding from Joseph.

Joseph whimpered "Don't touch it! Let me do it!" And Dairu backed off, knowing Joseph knew what he was doing. Joseph reached again to his shoulder, and gripped the hilt. Not knowing what to do next, but only armed with the instinct to pull the new object out of him, he began to tug on it. The hilt gave way from the shoulder easily, giving Joseph the confidence to continue. He pulled and pulled, however, the sword would not come out. Not that it was stuck, but because it was _huge._ Joseph pulled a final time, and out came the sword. Or, at least, what _looked_ like a sword. It was humongous! It was nine inches wide at the base of the sword, and it was at least five feet long, or even more!

Yoshimata sat forward, suddenly interested. He rubbed his chin, trying to remember something. "Huh, where have we seen this before..." He sat back again, and twisted the cane. He called over to Dairu, "Hey, Dairu! I think we've seen a sword like that before! Didn't we see a book on it back in Germany?"

The tan man blinked, and scratched his head. "Erm..." He looked down, rubbing his chin, then it came to him, causing him to snap his fingers in realization. "Yes! We did, it was a book on the Renaissance. The sword we noticed was the Zweihänder. Joseph's looks like one of them, doesn't it?"

Joseph tried to mutter the sword name, but could only manage "Zwei". He moved his hands, and the sword fell in place, and it slammed into the ground. "Gah!" Joseph yelled. The sword was _heavy!_ Komui came closer to Joseph, and examined the new weapon. "Huh, no wonder the sword is so heavy... it needs to be, since it doesn't have much of a sharp edge. Look at it." He held the sword gently, rubbing his finger on the blade. "It feels more like just a block of steel then a real sword like Mugen or Allen's Innocence. It may be somewhat lighter for you, it will still require some skill to aim it, since it requires the weight of the swings to slay Akuma."

Dairu whispered inside of Joseph's ear, whom nodded in understanding, and nodded to Komui. "Va bene." He then took his weapon, and walked off. Komui looked to Dairu, whom shrugged. "I guess since I'm up here, I should probably go next."

Komui nodded. "Sure. Let's see you activate your Innocence." Komui stepped back, and Dairu held his hand forward. He kept his eyes closed, but not out of fear. No; he was trying to focus. He allowed himself to relax, and began to look once more for the link to his weapon. He found it, and began to focus on connecting. Soon, the connection grew stronger, and he finally said, "Invocate!" His glove suddenly transformed: over the leather of the glove, seemingly spawning from the bolts on the knuckles of them, a metal fist formed as if like armor. The chain gained mass, and the dagger became sharper and longer.

Komui nodded, "Good work, Dairu. How does it feel?"

Dairu looked at his gauntlet, pondering the weapon. "It feels like... there's something inside of here..."

Eyebrow raised, "Can you touch it?" Komui asked.

"I think so- " Dairu was cut off by the sudden launch of his own weapon; it fired like a cannon from his wrists' holder, and it spiraled from a chain all the way into a wall; Lavi had to duck and Lenalee shifted closer to Allen to avoid the metal-fist of imminent pathway. The fist slammed into the wall, causing a small explosion. Komui sweat-dropped and Dairu waved his hand in embarrassment. "Sorry!" He held his now-bare gloved gauntlet out, and he pressed the button again. The chain retracted back, and the fist came flying back to him. The chain disappeared when it reached his hand, and the metal fist attached back onto the weapon.

Komui stopped hiding behind his clipboard, and said "I think I know what the purpose of this weapon is now. The fist is supposed to attach to an Akuma, which will allow you to either incapacitate it or to allow you to come into close-quarters with it, and your dagger is used to destroy the Akuma."

Dairu looked to his dagger, and then to his weapon. "You're probably right, Chief; it'll be pretty hard to handle, but I think I could get used to it."

Komui nodded, smiling. He turned, and looked to the group. "Yoshimata Hakitawa, you're up."

Yoshimata nodded, and put his weight into the cane, getting up from the rock. "Good luck, Yoshi-chan!" Sami called, and Yoshimata looked back and nodded. "I'll try, Sami." He got in front of Komui, and stood with a relative ease in his step.

"Whenever you're ready, Yoshi." Yoshimata sweat-dropped, usually only called that by Dairu, Joseph and Sami. He nodded, and he put his cane on the ground in front of him. His stance changed steadily, and his eyes focused on a single point in space. Inside Yoshimata's mind, he looked for a connection; for some kind of link to his Innocence. As if meditating, he was almost entranced by the touch of the connection to his soul. He reached further for it, and his being, his soul caught the link. His two arms suddenly began to glow steadily, but Yoshimata wasn't fully synchronizing yet.

Lavi looked at Yoshimata, and turned to Allen. "Why isn't he synchronizing right? He did have a high synchronization rate, right?"

Allen turned to Komui, whom shrugged. _Hevlaska forgot to take his synchronization rate?!_ "Well... let's just hope it's high enough."

Lenalee interjected, "It's probably because he hasn't been linked to his Innocence long enough while conscious. The others are having an easier time because they've been wide awake and studying their new weapons. Yoshimata was asleep for a few days, so his mind hasn't been in contact with the Innocence at all." She looked over to Yoshimata. "It'll take some time before he can synchronize at his top rate."

Yoshimata's forehead let go of a bead of sweat that trailed down his cheek, but he didn't stop, not just yet. He pushed again, and finally the light grew and grew until it collapsed in on itself, revealing Yoshimata's arms in their activated anti-Akuma weapon form. There were black markings, almost in a synchronized pattern all over his arms. His arms now looked artificial instead of real, but they still resembled real human arms. He looked to them, amazed.

In awe, Sami muttered, "It's so pretty..." Dairu was rubbing his chin in interest, and Joseph was mouth-a-gape. Yoko muttered, "Show off." And proceeded to lightly stab at a rock with her weapon, making a small hole that kept growing a little bit bigger every time she hit it.

Komui inspected the arms, intrigued. "Very impressive, but I can't but help wonder what their power is?" He tried to reach out to touch the weapon, but his hand suddenly spasmed when it came too close to the arm, and he held it. "Ah! It's so _hot!_ It feels like a fire!" He waved his hand, trying to cool off the small burn on his middle and index finger.

Yoshimata looked to his arm, mumbling "It doesn't feel hot at all to me..." He looked to a rock in front of him, and kneeled down. He put his hand over the rock, and it started to react to the heat. He brought his hand as close as to picking it up, but the rock melted completely. "Wow!" He looked to his new weapons with delight and wonder.

Komui had his hand inside some water with ice, and continued on. "Now that we have shown everyone how to activate their anti-Akuma weapons-"

Suddenly, Sami raised her hand with a small whisper.

* * *

**End of Part One. Part Two is next chapter.**


	16. Chapter 15: Part Two

**Second part of the fifteenth chapter. In America.**

Sami raised her hand. "Um, Chief Komui?"

Komui raised his eyebrow. "Yes?"

Sami said, "I didn't get to activate mine."

Blinking, Komui then realized, "Oh, right! Come over here, if you will." Sami nodded, and walked over to Komui. Yoshimata, meanwhile, had de-activated his anti-Akuma weapon and walked back over to the group. Joseph looked at Yoshimata's arms, and looked up to him. Dairu suddenly pushed Joseph slightly, where he fell onto Yoshimata's right arm. Joseph nearly screamed in fear, falling on the ground. He lay on the ground, but Dairu realized something. "Huh, you're no longer burning-hot, apparently."

Joseph got up from the ground, yelling "Quale DIAVOLO è il problema, Dairu?! Potevi bruciarmi fino ad uccidermi! Dannazione, sei stupido tanto quanto quel pervertito!" 'What the HELL is your problem, Dairu?! You could have made me burn to death! God dammit, you're as stupid as that pervert!'

Dairu laughed, rubbing the back of his head. "_Dai, Joseph. Era solo un test. Dopotutto, ti avrei mai spedito contro Yoshi se non avessi saputo se ti fossi bruciato o meno?_" 'Come on, Joseph. It was all just a test. After all, would I have actually pushed you into Yoshi if I didn't know you would be burned or not?'

"_Sì. Forse tu o Yoko._" Joseph pouted, grumbling. 'Yes. Maybe you, or Yoko.'

"_Dai, perdona e dimentica, Joseph._" 'Come on, forgive and forget, Joseph.' Dairu rubbed Joseph on the head, who presumed to grumble. Yoko hit her scythe on the ground by Dairu and Joseph, saying "Hey! Cut it out, both of you!" Dairu and Joseph both nodded in agreement, all now afraid of Yoko and her new weapon.

Komui coughed, trying to recapture the attention to him and Sami. "Now, Miss Hana, would you please activate your Innocence? If you're going to show us how it works, please..." He stepped back. "Don't hurt me." Allen and Lavi thought _What about us?!_ in the background, sweat-dropping to Komui's self-defense and no interest in theirs.

Sami nodded, and brought out her drawing book. She put a finger on her chin, thinking. Then, she snapped her fingers. "I've got it!" Sami looked to a large rock in the room, finding her target of choice. She nearly stabbed her book with her pen, saying "Invocation!" The book's cover glowed since the jewels were becoming illuminated, and Sami opened the book up, and drew a straight line, going directly forward. She pointed towards the rock, and the pen started to resonate with power. Out of the book's fold on the spine of the cover came a large line that propelled itself all the way into the rock, just about destroying it. Celebrating, she smiled and leaped up with a triumphant, "Yay! I did it!"

Komui, Allen, Lavi, Dairu and Joseph all sweat-dropped, thinking _Sh- She's scary..._ Komui clapped despite his discomfort, applauding Sami. "Good work, Sami! You've had that book for a long time, right?" Sami nodded. "Well, I guess that means you've grown accustomed to it by now, so you're probably the most capable one out of your whole entire group."

"Really?!" Sami squeeled. When Komui nodded, Sami clapped, and ran over to Yoshimata, whom she glomped, along with Dairu and Joseph. "I'm the most capable!" Joseph gasped for air, and Dairu and Yoshimata laughed with her.

Komui straightened, and coughed to clear his throat and to break the tension from Sami's surprising burst of brutality. "Now, we will begin training! First up, one on one match between Yu Kanda and Yoko Kyoukan. Please step forward!" He waved his hand up, pointing towards the area in front of him. Kanda broke rank and walked somberly to his spot. Yoko took hold of her scythe, and walked to meet Kanda face-on. Their gazes met each other; Kanda's was of iron-clad steel, of a nearly hellish-like coldness. However, Yoko didn't back down to him, and stood her ground. Komui stepped back a few steps, and waved in the air. "Begin!"

Kanda immediately brought out his sword from the sheath, charging Yoko. He put his index and middle finger on the edge of the sword, and muttered "Invocation". Yoko stood her ground, and expertly spun her scythe in the air in defense. Kanda stopped five feet from her and kicked his heel into the ground, allowing him to slide around Yoko. He brought his Mugen in an upward slash, but was blocked by Yoko. They locked blades, sparks coming from the friction between the blades. Yoko grinned and laughed, "You're good." Kanda tsked, and kicked up. Yoko was nearly hit in the chest, but she managed to jump back to dodge. Kanda returned and slashed at Yoko twice with the Mugen, but Yoko spun and blocked twice; however, she wasn't finished yet. She hit the butt of her scythe into the ground and poll-vaulted over Kanda, and hit him straight in the face. Kanda fell backwards, and Yoko threw her hands up so she could land on the ground.

Kanda wiped his mouth, becoming extremely upset. He brought his sword up, and growled "First Illusion…"

Lenalee sighed, shaking her head, "He wouldn't…"

Kanda cut her off, yelling "Hell's Insects!" He swings his sword, and out came specter-like insects that charged Yoko.

Allen blinked, not surprised. "He would."

Yoko, obviously confused and frightened by this new power, took her scythe and slashed down on the insects. The insect she hit blew up, but the three others rammed into her head-on. She flew back, and soon enough, she found herself on the ground. She rubbed her head and opened her eyes immediately, but all she saw was the receiving-end of Mugen. Kanda's eyes were centered on Yoko, his teeth gritted. However, Yoko looked over to Chief Komui, whom had raised his hand as a sign to stop. "Alright, that's quite enough Kanda." Kanda tsked, and sheathed his sword. He walked out of the door while Yoko stood back up, watching him leave._ That speed from before, that ferocity…_ She shook her head, and walked back to the group. Her anti-Akuma weapon transformed back into its normal form, allowed her to walk easier. Sami helped Yoko sit down, and Komui continued. "Next up; Joseph Colombo versus Arystar Krory the III!"

Joseph stepped forward, seemingly nervous but he looked over-confident in his own right. He shouldered his sword on his shoulder-guard, walking in a proud stride. Joseph got near the point where Yoko stood, and looked around. "_Dov'è 'sto tizio chiamato 'Krory'?__"_He asked, befuddled.

Komui laughed whimsically, and waved his hand in front of his face. "He should be here any-" Cut off immediately, the sound of a ton of bricks clapped the air and out came a dark figure from the crater. "… minute." Komui finished.

The figure stood up, and cracked its knuckles. "So… who's my opponent?" The creature asked, looking around. Komui pointed towards Joseph, who was tightening the grip on his sword's hilt. Krory licked his lips, and nodded.

Komui coughed, and stood back nearly ten steps further, and raised his hand, "May the match between Arystar Krory and Joseph Colombo…" His hand waved down, "Commence!"

Joseph brought his sword up to think of an attack, but he did not have this fortune on his side. The dark figure known as Arystar Krory launched itself at Joseph and slammed into the large sword as if it was nothing important. _"__Che caz-?!__"___Joseph yelped in surprise, as the larger man took hold of his sword. The figure tightened its grip, and spun the sword and the boy around. He let go in mid-swing, catapulting them all the way out to a wall. The wall broke from the large sword, but it at least cushioned Joseph's hit. He tried desperately to get back up as the other man breathed in, seemingly ready to launch another attack. Joseph brought the sword behind him, while it seemed to gain some weight in the swing. It was no matter to be thought of right now, as Joseph charged at Krory, yelling. Joseph slashed down on Krory, but the man grabbed the sword in mid-slash and threw it into the ground. He grabbed Joseph's face, and threw him into the ground along with his sword. He smashed his foot down on Joseph's back, and threw Joseph away to the wall (again). The smoke cleared, and Joseph was found to be unconscious.

Komui waved some of the smoke out of his face, and said, "Krory wins by overwhelming victory." He walked briskly over to Joseph's crater, poking him with his foot. Joseph only groaned in pain. Komui shrugged, and Dairu came to pick up Joseph. "Come now, Joseph, stop ruining the floor with your blood."

Joseph mumbled a profanity in Italian, and is dragged off by Dairu. Komui adjusted his glasses and continued. "Next up in the training is Sami Hana versus Lavi; please take your places in front of me." Sami squeeled, and jumped from the group and nearly skipped all the way to her spot. Lavi shrugged, and got off from a rock he was leaning on and walked to his. Sami got her notebook out, while Lavi thumbed at his hammer in its holster. "I guess I'll go easy on you, since Yu and Krorykins didn't go easy in their fights."

Sami smiled, "Aw, thanks!"

Twirling a hair on his head, Yoshimata chuckled. "Bad move." He said, referencing Lavi.

Komui looked to both Lavi and Sami, and put his hand in the air. "And…" His hand came down. "Begin training!"

Lavi brought out his hammer, and mumbled "Big hammer little hammer, grow… grow…" The hammer grew larger and larger, until finally it was enormous. "Grow!" He brought the hammer up, and looked down at Sami, "I'll try to make it not hurt, Miss Hana."

However, Sami had different plans. She looked up confidently at Lavi, writing in her notebook; she was drawing some sort of large blob of some kind. Lavi's eyebrow rose in suspicion, he still brought down the hammer. In a split second, Sami's arm shot up and around in a sort of wheel-motion, and the hammer slammed down. Lavi brought the hammer up quickly, concerned. "Ah, did I hit her too hard?!" He gasped, but the smoke cleared quickly in a gust. Where Sami was, there was a crater and… a black ball? Lavi looked at the ball curiously, but it instantly dissipated, revealing Sami with a mischievous look on her face. "Thanks for going easy on me, Lavi-kun…" She added an affectionate honorific from Japanese in the sentence. "But… it's time for you to go to sleep!" Her pen met the notebook once more, and she drew a straight line forward. She raised her now glowing pen at Lavi, and another line came out of her book. Lavi couldn't react fast enough to get out of the way and was hit dead-on in the stomach by the seemingly pillar of a line, sending him flying. His fall was broken by a large rock, and he fell to the ground.

Allen and Lenalee ran from the group to Lavi's side to see if he was injured but he, too, was knocked out. A stupid grin on his face, he muttered something along the lines of "She was _amazing_…" Allen shook his head in contempt, and helped Lavi to his feet and dragged him off.

Komui was on the ground; he was knocked down from the gust of Lavi's attack. Sweat-dropping, he thought _Sami took down Lavi in one blow!_ He got up, and wiped some dirt off his uniform. "N- Next match is my precious, beautiful sister Lenalee Lee versus Dairu."

Dairu sweat-dropped, _He didn't even say my last name…_ He left Joseph propped against a rock, and walked to his position in front of Komui. Lenalee did the same. Dairu looked Lenalee in the eyes; there, he saw something strange, that he has encountered only a few times in the past… a sense of strength, of protection. He could tell that while she was friendly, she was also a seasoned fighter, or in this case, Exorcist. _I'll have to be careful… _He looked to Joseph and Lavi, remembering that tenacity and good will doesn't mean much against someone who is determined.

Komui raised his hand in the air, "And…" Lenalee's legs spread a little, and Dairu widened his stance and held his Innocence up slightly. Komui looked at them both, thinking _This will be interesting, indeed…_ He let his hand fall. "Begin!"

On cue, Lenalee and Dairu both shouted "Invocation!" Lenalee's Dark Boots formed on her legs and Dairu's Gauntlet formed on his hand. Stretching his arm out, Dairu aimed at Lenalee and fired his gauntlet at her. The metal fist flung like a missile at Lenalee, but she easily hit the solid-steel block away. Dairu ran with the fist, trying not to be pulled away by it. He pressed again, and the gauntlet was pulled back in by the chain. Dairu ran in a circular motion around Lenalee, trying to find another shot at her. However, Lenalee was already attacking. She flung into the air, and began to spin as if she was weightless. "What in the world…" Dairu muttered, and down Lenalee came. Dairu leaped out of the way, but Lenalee still smashed into the ground, sending him flying as if hit by a bomb-shell. He fell a few feet away, but quickly recovered. Lenalee was already back on her feet, and flung herself once more into the air. Dairu, learning his lesson, ran backwards and aimed; but his steps made it difficult to aim at Lenalee, whom was a free-moving target. _Oh damn it all._ He fired at Lenalee once more, and missed her by a foot. Lenalee swung down, and once again Dairu faced the strength of the Chinese girl. He flew back but skidded on a rock on the ground and landed nearly upside down, his legs on the rock and his back on the ground. _This is not good... I should try a different way._ He swung himself off the rock, and stood up. Lenalee was waiting patiently, watching his every move. Dairu put a hand on his arm; it was cramping up from the weapon on his hand to his elbow. "My arm?" He whispered. _My body must not be used to the Innocence's strain._

Komui nodded, seeing Dairu in pain. _It's to be expected… these kids have barely ever used their Innocence's, but now they're being made to fight with them in battle. This is a painful way, but it's the only way to have the accommodator and the weapon synch. Yoko is experienced to combat, so she perhaps subconsciously ignored the pain. Joseph relies on his emotions, so the adrenaline in his body must have also covered the pain. Sami is probably already so experienced with her Innocence that the synchronization is probably as easy as breathing to her by now. Dairu, however, has to aim perfectly. He has to get close in combat to his opponents, but he doesn't have the speed or dexterity of Yoko, nor the natural berserk of Joseph. What he _does_ have, however, is the gift of planning strategies. _Dairu brought his weapon up, and ran again to get around Lenalee. He was panting heavily, usually not accustomed to fighting _and_ running; not to mention aiming at the same exact time. _However, the boy is out-matched in this training session. Lenalee has been fighting for years and her weapon is almost like the foil to his._ As if predicted, Lenalee suddenly maneuvered to Dairu with a quick double-flip in the air and slammed right next to him. He went flying back and landed on the ground. Exhausted, tired and in pain, Dairu raised his hand in surrender. "I give up…" He moaned. Komui nodded, and Lenalee deactivated her Innocence. She walked over to Dairu, and offered her hand to help him up. Dairu smiled and thanked her for the help.

_If he dares to even think of-_ Komui's evil, maniacal and over-protective older brother side chimed in, now taking the slightest glance as a sexual seduction. He shook his head, and continued on, albeit with one eye aimed as Lenalee's guardian. Next up is… Allen Walker versus Yoshimata Hakitawa."

Allen left his group, walking over to the starting position. Yoshimata finished helping Dairu settle down and took his friend's good lucks. He left them, and sort of hobbled over to his position in front of Komui with his cane. Komui looked to Yoshimata, and asked "Do you think you're up for this, Yoshi? You just came out of hospitalization and all…"

Yoshimata smiled and nodded. "I'm good to go; just a little tired is all. This training should wake me up no problem. Just let me do something first…" He reached into his jacket, and lightly touched his necklace with the wheel on it. He muttered something incoherent in a foreign tongue, and opened his eyes once more. "I'm ready now."

Komui, rather then wanting to inquire as to what he just said, simply continued. "Ready…" Yoshimata stood sternly in place, while allen unbuckled his glove on his blackened arm. "Begin!"

Allen threw the glove off, and yelled "Invocation!" His arm expanded into a larger, thinner arm. His hand was now equipped with claws, his hair-style changed from a tied-up pony-tail into a sort of raised-up style. From his back grew a cloak and a cowl, all white as snow. The cloak flew in the wind, and revealed a sort of metal mask from under the cowl; sort of in the style of a marionette mask. Yoshimata's jaw dropped in awe at the sight of Allen's transformation. "W- wow, Allen… you look completely different!"

Allen smiled, nodded, and held up his hand. "Now, it's your turn."

Yoshimata blinked, and shrugged. "Hm, maybe not now. But for the training, I'd say you should probably go first." Allen blinked, caught off-guard. _He doesn't want to activate his weapon? He'll be at a complete disadvantage!_

"Are you sure?"

Yoshimata nodded. "Quite sure, my new friend. I never start fights, anyways." He stood like a statue, in complete contrast to Allen's readiness to train with him. Yoshimata was completely firm and still, and Allen was loose and prepared.

Allen raised his eyebrow, and gave in. "Alright, if you say so, Yoshimata." He broke into a run, charging at Yoshimata. Yoshimata's muscles tensed, his eyes narrowing at Allen as if he were something suspicious. Allen's clawed hand grew closer and closer and he could only think _Is he going to be alright? Will he have time to dodge?_ He swiped down, and his heart almost skipped a beat. He cut deep into thin-air where Yoshimata once stood. "W- what?!" Allen exclaimed. _How did he disappear?!_

He heard a throat clearing right in front of him, and then Allen came to a realization: "He ducked."

There Yoshimata was, smirking like a child at Allen. "How're you doing, Allen?" He sounded so casual, so calm. However, his body was still tense as rock and his grip on the cane was tightening. _He has a poker-face_ Allen noted casually, but as soon as the words came to his mind, he felt a prod at his head. Yoshimata just prodded him in the forehead with his cane. Allen wasn't expecting this at all; it was all so… unconventional! The strength in the cane increased, and Allen tipped backward, falling in confusion. "Gah!" He yelped, and he managed to flip backwards with the use of his acrobatic skills. Yoshimata leaped backwards, however without a fancy flip or ruggedness of any sort. He simply jumped backwards; It was now that Allen knew that he would have to step up his game.

Allen swiped again with his claws at Yoshimata's mid-section, but Yoshimata managed to dodge. However, he was slashed at the last second on his chest, which caused him to lose his balance and have him focus on another retreat. Allen pressed forward, charging Yoshimata. Yoshimata dropped down on his stomach, and twisted his body with a sweeping kick that managed to catch Allen off-guard and sent him falling. Yoshimata backed up quickly, holding his chest. _That was to close…_ he whispered in his mind. He looked at his hand; there was little blood. He sighed in relief, but not for long. His ears caught approaching footsteps at a fast pace, causing him to look up to seeing the proverbial avalanche of white that is Allen Walker. Yoshimata ducked, but Allen was ready with a swift kick into the stomach; Yoshimata lost his breath but managed to catch his balance with his cane. Allen swiped again, but Yoshimata was ready. He ducked readily, but as soon as Allen came back to swipe again, Yoshimata didn't move a muscle. Instead, he used his cane as if like a sword or a fighting tool and actually _blocked_ Allen's arm against his chest! Allen backed up, but was met by Yoshimata's cane against his left leg, and a firm punch in the gut. Allen met these blows, and finally punched Yoshimata across the face. Yoshimata growled, and gripped his hands. "Invocation!" Yoshimata yelled, and his hands glowed once more. Allen backed up two steps, looking suspiciously at Yoshimata's weapons. _I should be cautious, I have no idea how our Innocence's would react…_ Yoshimata, however, wasn't as concerned. He charged Allen by running straight forward, but he changed half-way and turned himself into the air through a roll. He landed a firm kick on Allen's left shoulder and used the opportunity to try and hit Allen with his right arm. However, he was met by Allen's white cloak!

"What the- ?" Yoshimata gasped in shock. _How is that possible?! His cloak just moved by its own accord!_ The belt shot up as well and slapped Yoshimata in the stomach. Allen took this opportunity, preferring not to continue the fight anymore; he punched Yoshimata directly in the face, knocking the wind out of him. Yoshimata fell backwards onto his behind, gasping for air. Allen stood above him, victorious. Yoshimata looked up at him, and shook his head laughing. "You beat me, I admit it." Allen smiled, breaking the harsh mood from the fight. He bent down, and helped Yoshimata up.

Meanwhile, everyone was nearly stunned by the display of hand-to-hand combat ferocity. _He didn't activate his weapon until he got Allen hooked into a close-range battle… it seems he's been thinking about this weapon's capability, or he would have just attacked at random._ Komui noted to himself, walking over to them. He placed a hand on Yoshimata's shoulder, smiling along with them. "That's enough for now, okay?" Allen and Yoshimata nodded in agreement, especially since their bruises now had their own bruises.

The two groups walked over to the fighters and Komui, and finally formed a single group: a whole group of Exorcists. Joseph and Lavi finally came-to with Lavi rubbing his head and complaining that he was hungry, and Joseph and Dairu agreed with him. Yoko shook her head at the three, muttering that they're nothing but black-holes for food. Lavi made an off-hand remark about Allen being the only one of them that compares to a bottomless pit, but he was overtaken by Sami glomping him and he not knowing what to do; Yoshimata laughed with pure vigor at Lavi's predicament. Kanda walked in front of them, trying to get out as soon as possible; however, Komui was trying to tell him to calm down and reprimand him for his ferocity against Yoko, much to his own annoyance.

Allen stopped slightly, looking at his old friends and new friends. _Sometimes our jobs are tough, and even at times we never wish we joined the Order. But, when we get Home and look back on it all…_ He looked to Lenalee, whom gave him a small smile and congratulations on the fight. She touched his shoulder, and asked, "Are you alright, Allen?"

Allen blinked awkwardly, and returned her smile. "I'm alright, Lenalee."

… _it's all worth it._

**End of Chapter Fifteen. Here's a question to all of you that actually make it to the end of my chapters: Was the action in this chapter alright, or just too fast-paced? This was my fifth attempt at an action chapter for a story, but only my second for D. Gray-man. Should I slow the action down, or should I add more details? Please, give me some feedback!**

**Now, I'm off to go work on yet another Allen x Lenalee fanfic. Don't worry; The Sun is still my top fan-fic priority, but my new one is me experimenting with some ideas that wouldn't fit well in this story.**


	17. Chapter 16

**Insert funny yet witty statement here.**

* * *

Everyone was happy again. All of the Exorcists ate together at dinner and exchanged stories; sometimes they just talked about anything at all. Once dinner was done, Lavi took Dairu and Joseph and they went off to cause some 'midnight-mischief'. Allen decided to go to bed, so he sent his good-nights to everyone. Yoshimata was quietly in a doze on a lounge couch next to a fire, while Sami and Yoko were talking in Yoko's room. Kanda, however, went off on his own and didn't tell anyone where he was going. Secretly, he was going down to the cafeteria for a late-night soba noodle snack.

Chief Komui was in his office, where Lenalee was looking over her brother's shoulder. "Brother, you haven't been yourself for the last few days."

Blinking in surprise, Komui said, "Whatever do you mean, Lenalee?"

Lenalee sighed. "You've been so energetic lately, but not in your usual way when I'm around. You've actually been doing_ work_ lately. What's wrong?"

Komui put his head into his hands, rubbing his temples. He sat up, and turned around in his chair. "I was actually warned about my lack of effort by General Tiedoll. He told me that I was behind in some work, that I could do better, and I guess… he just inspired me to do my job."

Despite his explanation, Lenalee kept pressing on. "But you've been warned dozens of times, big brother! Why would you suddenly change your work ethics just because General Tiedoll told you that you could do better?"

Komui smiled, and shook his head. "You got me, Lenalee…" He turned the chair around completely this time, holding his head down. "It's just that… well… ever since the attack on the Black Order Headquarters, I've been feeling so… worthless. I couldn't do anything to help despite all my efforts to do so. I had to sit back and watch one after another of my friends die, and I couldn't… I couldn't help them!" He clenched his fist, tears starting to swell in his eyes. _No… I have to be strong; I'm her older brother…!_However, he couldn't stop them. "I just want to help, in any way at all. I want to prepare the new Exorcists for the fight, yet I don't want to. They're just… just…" He held his head up. "…So young... some of them are as old as you, Lenalee, so I can't help feeling so… so…" However, before he knew it, he felt something warm. It was Lenalee; she was hugging him, his head under hers in a tight embrace.

"Komui, you should have told me sooner. You didn't have to keep it all inside you, you know." Overcome with emotions, Komui could only return his sister's hug, allowing his tears to stream freely now.

"Thank you… Lenalee."

* * *

Dairu, Joseph and Lavi popped into the lounge, tip-toeing inside. Yoshimata was sleeping on the couch with his jacket unbuttoned three buttons down the top of his jacket, his hands resting on his stomach and his temporary cane nestled by his couch. Dairu turned to Lavi and whispered "Are you sure this will be okay?"

Lavi nodded, smiling mischievously. "Yeah, we'll just do it and run. You got the feather?" Dairu nodded, pointing his finger towards Joseph whom held it up to prove it. "Good, I got the cream for the éclairs in the cafeteria. Get his hand out, will yah?"

Joseph crouched down and carefully tip-toed closer to Yoshimata until he was right above the sleeping boy. Joseph delicately brought Yoshimata's hand off of his chest and carefully brought it down to his side. Lavi silently uncapped the bottle of cream and brought out a spoon, carefully scooping out a large amount of the cream. Joseph coaxed Yoshimata's fingers to open, and Lavi let the cream fall onto Yoshimata's palm. Lavi and Joseph backed up a few steps, allowing Dairu room to move in and brush the feather up against their victim's nose. Lavi was nearly giggling but managed to muffle himself as he watched his sinister plan unfold, until finally Yoshimata brought his hand up from his side and it lazily hit his nose, covering his nose with cream. Lavi held his hand to his mouth while Joseph was keeled over keeping their cackling in, but Dairu managed to wave them out of the room. They tip-toed out but Joseph closed the door too quickly, causing the door to nearly slam loudly. Lavi nearly jumped at the sudden sound, while Dairu was looking back in shock. "Joseph!" He hissed at his Italian counterpart, whom held up his hands whispering "_**I didn't mean to!**_"

Lavi waved his hand, almost certain that they were compromised. "Run!" He whispered in desperation, and the three pranksters ran tip-toeing off.

* * *

Yoko waved her hand, smiling. "Good night, Sami."

Sami replied, "Good night, Yoko-chan!"

Yoko closed the door behind her, but as she closed the door she realized something past her. She looked past herself, and saw Dairu, Joseph and Lavi tip-toeing at a pace she could only assume was running. She looked back, but she decided that it was just too late at night for her to take responsibility for their goof-ball stunts so she simply shook her head in discontent. She walked down the hall and made a right to go through the main-hall and go past the cafeteria to get to her room and finally go to sleep. She reached the entrance of the cafeteria but saw someone else, walking away from the cafeteria: Yu Kanda. Yoko slid behind a pillar, looking back to Kanda. She was still pretty mad about him beating her in training, but there was still something… something attractive about him. Kanda looked back, causing Yoko to retreat back behind the pillar. She waited a few moments before looking again, and she saw that Kanda was nearly gone from the hallway, already far from her view. Yoko sighed in relief. _I should probably leave, before he _really_ see me…_ She took her leave at that.

However, there she was wrong. He had seen her. Kanda was frowning, but this time in perplexity and somewhat confusion. He tapped his bowl as he walked, and his other hand stirred the soba noodles inside with his index finger. He licked his lips, and thought to himself, _Why is she following me? Is she planning to attack me, believing she'll win since I have something in my hands? Why…_His teeth gritted, his eyes squinting,_ can't I get her out of my head?!_

Yoko reached her room without any further hindrance, and turned the knob to open the door. "Yoko-chan?" The sound of Sami's voice made her jump in surprise, doing a complete one-eighty degrees spin to meet Sami's gaze. "S- Sami?! What are you doing here, you nearly scared the sh…" Yoko calmed down in mid-profanity. "What are you doing here, Sami?"

Sami smiled. "I heard some running from down the hall-way when you closed the door, but I didn't decide to check on you until a few minutes after you left. I followed you to the cafeteria entrance, and I saw you standing behind a pillar, spying on Yu-chan! Wait…"

Yoko burst out, her face blushing. "W- What do you mea-?" But in mid-sentence, she blinked and looked at Sami suspiciously. "'Yu-chan'?"

Sami nodded, her smile growing. "Yup! Lavi-kun told me to call Kanda that since he's Japanese, and he'll know what it means. It really makes him mad and its fun to watch, Lavi-kun told me."

Yoko sighed, holding her head down in exasperation. She looked up, and put a hand on Sami's shoulder. "Sami, just please go back to bed. Good night." Yoko quickly turned, and entered her room and closed the door in finality.

Sami only smiled, mulling on something. "Good night, Yoko-chan…"

* * *

The next morning, Yoshimata stirred and yawned. He rubbed his eyes to wake, but felt something rub all over his left eye. "What the…" Yoshimata muttered and he opened his right eye, seeing the cream from the other night. "What in the world is this?" He tasted the cream, and muttered "Éclair cream…" The flash-back came instantly. _Dairu loves éclairs._He grumbled a little with morning fatigue and subconsciously licked the delicious éclair cream. The door to the lounge opened, and inside came Reever Wenham.

"Oh, you're _here_, Yoshimata!" He exclaimed. "We were worried that you had gone missing or something; we looked in your room and even in the cafeteria."

Yoshimata sweat-dropped. _Oh, I should have probably gone to bed…_He rubbed the back of his head, laughing slightly. "Sorry for the trouble, I was tired from the training yesterday and…"

Reever smiled and held up his hand to stop Yoshimata. "It's alright, as long as you're okay." Reever shuffled through a small stack of folders under his arm, and took one out. "Here you go; your first mission."

Yoshimata gave a start, surprised. "A- A mission _already_?!" He grabbed the manila folder from Reever's hands, and opened it. Inside, there was information on the mission.

Reever shrugged, trying to move his lab coat up without touching it. "You'll have to go to the Chief's office to get the full briefing."

Yoshimata breathed in, and bowed. "Thank you for the information, Mr. Wenham." Yoshimata got up and placed his cane on the floor to steady himself, but Reever put his hand on Yoshimata's shoulder.

Reever smiled, "Good luck, Yoshimata." Yoshimata returned the smile, thanking him for the luck. Yoshimata set out as quickly as possible to get to the Chief's office; he was still feeling a little woozy from the days he was unconscious. After a few minutes he finally reached the Chief's office, whereas he knocked on the door.

Komui's voice came from inside, "Please come in!" and Yoshimata did as such. In Komui's office there was still a carpet of papers and books, but it was still presentable. Komui was standing at his desk with a map of Russia while Allen and Lenalee were sitting down on the couch. Yoshimata smiled, and nodded in greeting. "Good morning."

Allen and Lenalee returned the greeting, "How did you sleep last night?" Allen had asked. Allen remembered the night before when Yoshimata was convulsing, shaking and whimpering in a nightmare.

Yoshimata smiled weakly, "Pretty good." He sat down on a chair next to the couch, putting his cane to the side.

"How long do you think you'll have to use that?"

Yoshimata considered Lenalee's question, and shrugged. "Maybe for a few more hours; perhaps a day." He rubbed one of his legs, and nodded. "I'm getting the feeling back in most of my nerve-endings now."

Nodding, Komui was relieved by this. _His nervous system was nearly blown half to hell by the operation; his body needed to rest so his brain could re-affirm his connections in his body, including to his Innocence._He breathed in, and continued on. "So, Yoshimata. This mission will send you, Allen and Lenalee to St. Petersburg in Russia to investigate rumors of strange things happening at the Kazan Cathedral. You will be sent off in a few hours to investigate these rumors, and if you should find an Innocence then it will be your next job to secure it and bring it back to Headquarters. Understood?" Allen, Lenalee and Yoshimata nodded. Komui smiled, "Good. Go and get ready." The three Exorcists got up and left together, closing the door behind them. Komui rubbed his head, muttering to himself. _Good luck._

Yoko had woken up about an hour before Yoshimata had, and during that time she stayed in the cafeteria. She had gotten her breakfast and was sitting down to talk to Sami, but something still bugged her in the back of her mind. She and Sami were talking about how their first mission will go, but they both knew something incredibly obvious: this will be the first time that they won't be fighting as a team. The biggest the teams ever got was to three Exorcists; Dairu would obviously be automatically with Joseph's team, since he served as a translator. Even then, the team would be broken up, and that didn't sit well with either her or Sami, even though Sami was covering up her feelings about it with talking and smiling. Yoko read her body-movements, however, and saw that Sami was very worried and somewhat apprehensive about the whole discussion, but knew it had to be done. There was nothing else _to_ talk about!

"So, what's up?" Lavi asked with a smirk on his face, causing Yoko and Sami to fall back in surprise. _He came out of __**nowhere**__!_Sami got up immediately, while Yoko was trying to catch her breath. Lavi propped his head on his hands, smiling at Yoko. "Did I scare you?"

Yoko tsked, and got up. "No, you just came out of nowhere." She got back into her seat, and got back to eating her neglected breakfast. When she was done chewing, she shot a glare at Lavi. "What do you want, anyways?"

Lavi sat up straight now and adjusted his seating in the chair. "This may seem like short notice, but you have a mission to do; you too, Sami." He picked out the two folders that were underneath the girl's notice in his arms and handed them off. Sami looked inside her folder, and Yoko the same.

Yoko mumbled, "Sweden…?" but Sami nearly squealed when she read hers, "Ah! Paris, France!" Sami held the folder against her chest, giggling with joy.

Lavi held up his hand, "Now, now, before you start celebrating an early win you have to go get briefed on the mission by Chief Komui. Cm'on, I'll join you." Sami immediately sprang up to follow Lavi, while Yoko trailed after.

They arrived at the office, whereas Yoko knocked on the door. Komui told them to come in, and in they went. Yoko stopped in her tracks when she saw another person in the room: _Kanda!_

Kanda was surprised, and had an equally frozen face. Lavi and Sami looked between them, waving their hands in front of their comrade's gazes. They snapped out of it, but they still avoided each other. Yoko sat on the left side of the couch with Sami and Lavi in the middle, and Kanda sat on the far right of the couch. Komui adjusted his glasses, and went on with the explanation. "This will be your first mission, Sami and Yoko; however, we are short on Exorcists on hand at the moment, so we'll send you in a pair instead of a group of three. Sami, you will be partnered with Lavi and will be sent to Paris, France. Yoko, you'll be with Kanda and sent to Brussels, Belgium. Sami and Lavi, your objective is to investigate rumors of a frightening and murderous monster in the Seine River. We suspect it's an Akuma, so if there is an Akuma there then it must have a target in mind. Go track it down and obtain through any means its target." Lavi and Sami nodded, and Komui moved on to Kanda and Yoko. "Kanda and Yoko, you will be sent to Brussels, Belgium to…" Komui looked closer at his report, as if uncertain of what to say next. "… to investigate a report that a local chocolate factory has started creating super-heated chocolate, yet they have no idea why."

Yoko raised her eyebrows, extremely interested in the mission now. While Yoko was tossing the idea of going to a chocolate factory around, Kanda put his face in his hands. _Why can't it ever be to somewhere with Soba noodles…?_ "So, do you all understand your missions?"

"Yes, sir." Lavi, Sami and Yoko chimed, while all Kanda said as "Ugh."

"Good. Good luck, everyone. Enjoy your trips, if you don't find anything!" Komui said with vigor, waving.

Yoko looked down at the ground, her hands in her pockets. She was excited that she was finally going on a mission, but she was… wary. Kanda didn't seem to like her that much, and if they couldn't work together, how would they be able to succeed? She sneaked a look at the older boy's face, and continued walking near Sami. Sami was busy describing Paris to Lavi, whom was absorbing every word. She described the artwork, the scenery, the people, everything. Lavi suggested that they should probably start by a small row-boat down the Seine to find the target, and Sami nodded. "Yeah, that's probably the best way to go. The Seine is, for the most part, deserted, except for a few ships that ferry in and out. We should be able to go along easily." Sami looked to Yoko, and suddenly glomped her for little to no reason. She whispered, "Yoko-cha~n…"

Yoko kept her annoyance down, and answered, "What is it, Sami?"

Her brown-haired friend looked to Lavi for a second, saw that he was preoccupied with trying to get Kanda's attention, and looked back to Yoko with a sly grin. She continued to whisper, "Could you please get something for me and Lavi-kun? I want to…" Sami blushed, "Give it to him as a gift."

Yoko blinked in utter surprise at the statement. _Wow, she must _really_ like this guy!_She looked over her shoulder, and nodded with a smile. "Sure, Sami; I'd be happy to."

Yoko felt the force of an over-excited girl take over her neck, hugging her. "Oh, thank you, Yoko-cha~n!"

They heard Lavi's voice suddenly chime in, "Ah! Hey there, Allen, Lenalee." Lavi was looking down on the entrance to the Headquarters, and there they were, waiting.

Lenalee waved, "Hey, Lavi!"

Yoko looked at the two Exorcists near the entrance and called, "Where is Yoshimata? Did he chicken out?"

"Ha, ha, ha ha ha." Came a sarcastic but whimsical voice. Behind them, they saw Yoshimata holding a manila folder, as well as a relatively large envelope. Yoshimata smiled, and opened up the envelope. "I got the payment for our boat-ride and your train tickets for your transits, but…" He looked the other way, putting on a mock-careless face, "Maybe I'll just sell these tickets or just take the trips myself for a little vacation…"

Yoko and Kanda put their grips on their weapons, growling "Do it and you die."

Yoshimata put his hands in the air, surrendering. "Okay, okay. Here, take your tickets." He opened up the envelope, and shuffled through it. He muttered, and found the tickets to Belgium. "Here you go." The two took their tickets immediately, leaving a suspicious side-look at the black-haired man. Lavi and Sami walked up next, prompting Yoshimata to continue his search in the envelope. This took less time then the other tickets, for the French tickets were brightly colored and had interesting symbols and art on them. "Alright, here they are." He handed them off to Lavi and Sami, whom gave Yoshimata a kind smile and a 'thank you'. The five walked down the stairs to meet up with Allen and Lenalee and Yoshimata called down to the two while waving three other tickets with Cyrillic letters on it.

Allen looked to Lenalee, looking confused, "Why do we have to use tickets now? Won't our status as Exorcists do?"

Lenalee sweat-dropped and answered "Well, train companies logged a complaint against the Order while you were gone. Kanda, Chaoji and Miranda were on a mission and Chaoji somehow got Kanda extremely mad. We received no other information then that the damage was thorough and severe to the train."

It was Allen's turn to sweat-drop, mumbling _Yeah that would probably do it._

Lenalee shrugged, smiling. "Don't worry; it's only for another month."

Allen nodded in exasperated agreement, and noticed that the other five Exorcists finally arrived from the stairs.

Sami looked from Allen to Lenalee, asking "What are we waiting for?" and Allen answered, "We're waiting for Dairu, Joseph and Krory. They're-"

Then, they heard an explosive voice and the sound of Italian words being strung together in anger and fear. The group turned to another corridor and saw the pre-mentioned group of Exorcists' coming now, albeit Joseph had his hands in the air and walking at a faster pace. Dairu looked worn out, trying to catch up to Joseph while trying to talk back to the boy in Italian. Behind them was Krory who was walking normally with a quiet look; his blood-rage had, apparently, left him with a disengaging relationship with Joseph, although he probably never intended for it to happen.

Joseph walked right through the group and stood behind Yoshimata, mumbling in Italian. Yoshimata chuckled and put a hand on his head. "What's wrong, JoJo-chan?" Joseph spat on the ground in response, his back to Yoshimata.

Dairu finally caught up, out of breath. "He… He doesn't…" Dairu tried to wheeze out. He finally caught his breath after several breaths in and out, and continued, "He doesn't like the idea of being around Krory, even if the blood-rage has worn off by now; he says that he refuses to fight with a blood-thirsty maniac."

Yoshimata blinked in surprise, "But we fight with Yoko and Sami all the time!"

Dairu nodded, putting his hands out in agreement, looking bewildered but in comical agreement with Yoshimata "I know!" With a nerve on her forehead in anger, Yoko slammed both of their foreheads together as punishment. "Ow!" Dairu and Yoshimata both cried in pain, falling back.

"Come on, morons. Let's go." Yoko growled, grabbing both of them by the back of their collars and dragging them to the door. Almost the whole group was stunned by Yoko's ferocity and tenacity, but Sami only shrugged and looked on as her friends went through the door.

"It's only natural, of course. Yoko-chan is usually nice, but she stayed up a little late last night so she's probably just tired today." Sami smiled, and hopped along with her friends. The rest of the group, although awkwardly, joined in pace of Yoko and Sami.

Yoshimata kept his eyes closed during the whole dragging while Dairu was wide awake and making casual conversation with everyone else as if it were no big deal. Yoko, however, was annoyed that all the effort she was putting into dragging them along wasn't working at all. _As least one of them is quiet._She thought to herself. The group began to go up a hill, and Yoko began to sweat a little. Finally, she sighed and mumbled "Screw it." And thus, she let Dairu and Yoshimata drop to the ground.

Dairu got up first, dusting himself off and getting leaves out of his robe. He simply shrugged it off, and moved along to get back in place with his charge, Joseph. Yoshimata lay on the ground, silent. Yoko raised an eyebrow, and tapped Yoshimata twice in the head with her foot. Yoshimata's eyes fluttered opened, and gave Yoko a tired grin. "Are we there yet?" Yoko, enfuriated, grabbed Yoshimata by his jacket and began to shake him. Meanwhile, everyone else was walking along, trying to get away from the scene.

"What did you think that was for?!" Yoko yelled, not bothering nor caring to notice that the other Exorcists had moved on, "That wasn't some sort of ride, it wasn't some sort of taxi-service! That was _punishment!_Do you understand me?!" She held Yoshimata up in the air, demonstrating herself as the dominant one in this debacle.

Yoshimata nodded, not hesitating or seeking to add to the flames of Yoko's righteous fury. "Yes, I understand."

Yoko sighed, "Good." She let Yoshimata down on the ground, where he put his left foot down and looked for his cane to help support the right side of his body, the side that h e experienced the most problems with when he woke up. Yoko hit her foot under it, and spun it into the air. Yoshimata grabbed it from the air's whimsical hold, and twirled it down to the ground. Yoko let her support go; giving him a glance to make sure he could walk again. Seeing he did, Yoko sighed and walked to join the group, with Yoshimata joining her. They looked up to the top of the hill, where Sami was waiting for them. "Yoshi-chan, Yoko-chan, come on! The port is just over the hill!" Yoko ran up the hill to get back with the group, while Sami stayed and made sure Yoshimata got up.

When Yoshimata finally got on the hill-top with Sami, he laughed with a tired look on his face, "I'm getting too old for this."

Sami giggled, and started to walk with Yoshimata. "Come on, Yoshi, stop being such an old fart! You've gotta work out more an' get in shape!"

Yoshimata gave her a sincere smile, "Heh, easy for _you_to say." While they walked back down the hill to get to the harbor, Yoshimata stole a gaze at Sami's face, seeing that she was looking directly at the group. Yoshimata looked with her, and saw her looking at the red-haired Exorcist Lavi. With a sly smile, Yoshimata gave her a pat on the back, "Go on, Sami. Go catch up with him and have fun. I'll get there on my own time." Sami beamed at this news, giving Yoshimata a hug. "Thanks, Yoshi-cha~n!" She ran off, and in but a few seconds she was back in between Lavi and Yoko.

Yoshimata continued on, the sly smile still on his face. However, after a few seconds of looking at the other Exorcists leaving, his smile soon faded into a neutral and calm face. In a daze, he continued to walk; his mind going to… somewhere else.

* * *

Meanwhile, all the other Exorcists have reached the ship. It is a two-story ferry that will ship them across the English Channel to a point on mainland Europe. The ferry was situated in an English harbor with a small village near it. The townsmen looked like they relied on the movement of people through the village so they can trade off some of their surplus crops that they collected from a farm far off for money. The ferry landed in France where they can easily split back up into three groups and go to their respective countries. However, Krory looked out to the sea, sighing. Allen saw Krory looking down-trodden, so he walked up next to Krory and sat with him on a seat that looks out to the horizon. "What's wrong, Krory?"

Krory looked away, flustered. "W- Well… that Joseph kid doesn't seem to like me too much… he seems to hate me!" He started whimpering.

Dairu heard from a higher level on the ship as he was passing by with some pillows in his hand, and called down to them, "Don't worry, Krory. He's just angry that you kicked his butt so easily; he's very egotistical. He'll get over it once we give him so food and some sleep." Krory kept his sad gaze up at Dairu, so Dairu gave him a reassuring smile. "Trust me!" Krory nodded, solemnly.

Dairu continued on after that, until he walked to the bow of the ship. On the dock, the tanned man saw someone straggling along. Recognizing him, he waved his hand and called him with a teasing tone in his voice, "Hey, Yoshimata! Long time no see!" He didn't respond. _Huh?_Dairu climbed over the bars and dropped onto the first level of the ship, and waved. "Yoshimata?"

Yoshimata suddenly blinked, and looked upwards at Dairu. His face was moot of any emotion at all, but he still looked tired. Dairu saw that Yoshimata had bags under his eyes, that his skin was turning pale and that his eyes weren't making much contact with his own. Yoshimata could only reply, "What?" In a confused, uncertain tone.

Dairu now felt worried, and leaned forward, "Are you feeling okay, Yoshimata? Do you want to sit this out?"

Yoshimata looked around the harbor once, and tried to form a smile. "I'm alright, don't worry." He continued on, using his cane to support him still. Dairu frowned; _I'm worried about him…_And he walked off, starting to feel uneasy about his friend's wellbeing.

* * *

The boat-ride was relatively short; they made it across the Channel with no problems. Yoko, Sami and Lenalee were talking in a cabin; Allen was hanging out with Krory, Lavi and Dairu. Joseph, however, wasn't around due to the fact that he was snooping around the ferry for food. Yoshimata was on the front of the ship's deck, sitting in a meditative state; Kanda sat in his general vicinity since he has learned that Yoshimata was usually uncommunicative when he was meditating, which made it all the more better for the reclusive Yu Kanda. When the ship arrived at the harbor, everyone loaded off when told. Yoshimata was the only exception, whom needed a prod in the head from the sheath's end of Mugen. With the tap, Kanda mumbled "Get up, we're here."

Yoshimata blinked for a second, and nodded without a word. Now that all of the Exorcists' were off the boat, they were now at a principle town of Calais in France.

Sami seemed especially joyful, now that she was 'home' in her relatively familiar country. The town was much larger then the village they left from, it had a much sophisticated architecture then the last town. The town also had fields, but they didn't seem to really rely on them more, since the town was also visited by much more ferries then the village in England.

Sami looked around, and saw Allen, Lenalee and Krory looking at a directions map put up on a billboard for travelers arriving in Calais. Allen was trying to understand the directions, but they were all in French. Sami walked forward and interjected, translating the French for them. "The train-station is over here," She pointed towards a grey square on the map, "It's supposed to lead several ways into different countries, but we've gotta wait for the right trains to arrive."

Lenalee held up a schedule, asking "Can you read any of this?"

Taking the schedule, Sami examined it quickly. She nodded, beaming. "Yes! There's a train out-bound for Russia, there's one for Beligum leaving soon and the train for Paris should be arriving now." In the distance, they heard an approaching train horn, to which Sami smiled, "We arrived right on time."

The quiet Romanian Exorcist leaned forward, asking, "Is there a train that leads to Portugal?"

She shook her head, but added, "There _is_one going to Spain, and you'll catch that train and simply find another way into Portugal. Here are the tickets for the train." Sami handed over the tickets to Krory, whom whimpered a quiet thanks to her. An officer came out on the train station entrance, and bellowed "The trains are to leave in five minutes! Please board immediately!" With that, all of the Exorcists began their way over to the station. There already was Yoshimata, Kanda, Lavi, Dairu and Joseph, all waiting for their comrades.

Krory leaned towards Dairu, and whispered about the train to him. Dairu nodded, and took a ticket for himself and another for Joseph, whom was still pouting. Dairu's group entered their train, while Lavi and Sami entered theirs. Allen, Lenalee and Yoshimata were about to enter theirs, but Yoshimata stopped. He turned around to face Yoko, whom was supposed to see them off and then board her train, and held out his hand with a grateful smile. "Good luck on your mission, Yoko."

Surprised at first, Yoko recovered and nodded and shook his hand with a firm grip. "Good luck."

* * *

**Due to Lavi's encouragement, all chapters will go beyond 4,000 words. Yay =D This arc will span for about four chapters, with each mission taking up one chapter each. The other missions will mostly not co-mingle, if not at all, and remain isolated from each other so each chapter will finish each mission. If one chapter finishes a night, and the next chapter is day, that chapter is the same day but only from the beginning of the day unless stated otherwise. Which it most likely will, since I mostly forget what I type here.**

**~:D**


	18. Chapter 17

**This chapter will start on the same day as chapter sixteen. Location is near Paris, France.**

* * *

Lavi yawned a little bit, and leaned over to look out the window, his right arm supporting his head. _This used to be so much fun when we didn't have to travel the _normal_ way…_ The train sped past farm after farm, Lavi recording the number of apple trees he saw. He mumbled the number on and on, beginning to grow tired from sheer boredom.

Sami noticed Lavi's absent-mindedness, but had a better idea in mind. She quietly took out her book along with her ink pen and began to sketch a picture. _The bumps from the train make it a little bit tough, but I think I can do it._ Her hand moved swiftly across the paper, but didn't miss a single mark as she drew.

Her eyes moved up at Lavi and down again at her book, over and over again until Lavi finally noticed. He sat up, interested in what his partner was doing. "What'cha doing, Sami?"

Finally stopping, Sami smiled. "I was drawing a picture of you, Lavi-kun!"

Definitely interested now, Lavi moved over from the window, closer to Sami. They were sitting in opposite seats, so he leaned over to look. "May I see?" With a nodding smile from Sami, he nearly leaped from his own seat and sat next to her and looked upon the picture. It was an almost perfect ink-picture of him! The details were spot-on for his face and even expression, with even the shine in his eyes from the setting sun outside accounted for. He put a hand on Sami's shoulder, saying "This is incredible!"

Sami smiled, bowing with a thankful nod. "Thank you!"

She let Lavi take the picture of him, and he sat back down in his own chair with his eyes looking over every part of the picture. _Such amazing precision…such thorough attention to detail and accuracy… she could probably have been a Bookman if she tried._ The idea rang in his mind like a bell, causing him to look upwards. _I wonder what Old Geezer would think if I asked him…_ He blinked before finishing the thought, shaking his head. "Nah, he probably wouldn't like that…" He said out loud by accident.

His partner looked up at him, she wasn't paying attention to him for she was gazing out of the window to look upon the town that they just entered in the train; Paris was just a short three miles away now. She repeated what she had heard with a questioning look on her face, "Won't like what, Lavi-kun?"

Lavi let out an 'uh' before shaking his head out of his mindless daze, and gave a reassuring smile, "No, it's nothing at all, Sami." Sami gave him a long look before she turned back to looking outside.

* * *

The train arrived in Paris after seven minutes. The city itself was fantastically beautiful and large; there were rows upon mazes of houses, buildings, shops and more. Inside the plaza outside of the train station, Sami saw beautiful statues of gargoyles perched upon giant pillars, seemingly hunting the Parisians and new-comers with their stone eyes. Sami looked to Lavi with a shy look on her face. "Lavi, after the mission, I'd like to come back here… if that's okay?"

Lavi absorbed the meaning of that sentence, and nodded. "Sure!" He said with a sly grin. Because of that response, he received a large hug from Sami, to which he secretly blushed.

Across the plaza, there were two men looking at them with a sort of secretive vibe about them. Lavi had noticed them as soon as he got off the train, but made no mind of it at first. However, now they weren't looking away; they seemed very interested in him and Sami. When Sami let go of the hug, the two men walked over and approached them with two badges pulled from their jackets. One of the officers began to speak in English, albeit it held the accent of a proficient speaker of French, "_Bonjour, mon amis._ Welcome to Paris, we're with the National Gendarmerie."

Lavi looked to Sami, whom whispered in his ear, "They're policemen." Lavi nodded in understanding.

The other policeman coughed, and continued, "We were told by the chain of command that you would be able to solve and stop this chain of murders on the river, so we're here to escort you there and help you stop the killings as soon as possible." Lavi and Sami nodded in complete understanding, so the first speaking officer took of his hat and nodded to his friend. "His name is Jean Philippe, I'm Nicholas Roache." Jean held his hand out to the Exorcists, and shook their hands. Nicholas only offered a nod. "We'll be leaving right now, if you'll please follow me…"

The French policemen walked off, and the two Exorcists followed in tow. As they walked, Sami was able to get more of a profile on the two. Jean Philippe seemed carefree, although he was still serious on the mission. Jean looked no older then twenty, with a head of brown-hair and brown eyes; he had the looks of a strapping young man. However, his partner was much different. Obviously the senior officer in this situation, Nicholas Roache looked as he acted: very strong, very passive and experienced. He had a now graying beard on a head that carried a short, black crew cut and seemingly uninterested brown eyes. The both seemed like unlikely partners to be paired with, but they acted with a casual demeanor that made them seem like brothers, or even a father to a grown son. After a few minutes of walking, they finally reached a small dock that was nestled between two stone buildings. The dock hosted a shabbily looking boat of about the size of a rower and a disheveled looking man whom looked like a shadow less a person as he hid under a ragged blanket. The sun was setting quietly, so Jean brought out a tube. He mumbled in French, then spoke in English, "These torches, I tell you… they run out of energy too quickly."

Lavi looked at the tube, and asked "Aren't those called flashlights?"

Jean shrugged in response, and turned a lever on the flashlight. The light flashed, albeit rather dimly in the still half-lit streets, so he quickly turned it back off. He looked to his partner Nicholas who was taking the initiative to start to drag the boat. The shadow-man suddenly perked up, whispering in a hoarse voice that Sami could barely catch to translate, "_Comment allez-vous?"_ _How are you?_

Nicholas stopped and gave a stare to the man, _"J'ai faim." I have hunger._

The shadow-man nodded, smiling. "_J'ai soif."_ _I have thirst. _

Stepping backwards, Nicholas held his hands up at shoulder level. Jean, Lavi and Sami were both confused, but Nicholas remained unemotional. He continued the weird conversation, muttering _"Liberté, égalité, fraternité." Liberty, equality, brotherhood._

With a chortle, the shadow-man replied one last time, his horse voice suddenly transforming into a normal, deep voice of a man of age, "_Bonne nuit!" Good night!_ The man got up and shuffled off, giving a nod to a bewildered and utterly astonished Jean, Lavi and Sami. Nicholas merely shrugged the whole conversation off and continued on with dragging the boat into the water.

With the boat now next to the dock, Nicholas got an oar out of the side of the boat and held the boat next to the dock to allow the group on. Once they made their way onboard, he began to row the boat down the Seine River. The night had finally encroached the day, and the stars began to shine in the sky as lively as ever before. Jean took his hat off, looking into the sky. Nicholas was looking around, a little bit apprehensive now. _They're scared of whatever killed those people._ Lavi put his hand on the tiny hammer in his pocket, scanning the area. "Where is the prime area of the murders?"

Nicholas took out a cigarette, lighting it. "The main area is about…" He leaned back, recounting his memory. "About twenty meters ahead." Jean put his hat on in a hurry, reaching for his pistol. Nicholas shook his head, raising his hand at the startled policeman. "Don't do anything rash; it will try to ambush us, and we frankly don't need a pistol firing at random if it tips the boat over." He sat back, and continued to smoke. "Just wait." Jean blinked in suspense, and then sat back down. However, he kept his hand near the primer of his pistol just in case.

Sami _looked_ worry-free, but on the inside she was full of anticipation and fear. The alleged Akuma has killed a number of people by now, and over the months of traveling the ones that murdered many people usually got bigger and bigger in size. And now, she has to even worry about Level _Two_ Akuma, thanks to their 'introduction' to her friends. She looked to Lavi, and suddenly, she felt… strange. His face was filled with out-right confidence, with such vigor and determination. Just by looking at him, Sami was filled with a glimmer of strength. She took a deep breath in, and breathed out all of her fears. _As long as I'm with Lavi-kun, I'll be alright._

* * *

The night nary stir but the water. The people sat in silence, frozen like statues against the darkness that they traveled through. The silence was only broken by the silent chirping of crickets that took up their refuge near the water, but that didn't make this situation any less heart-pounding for the people. Nicholas looked up from his cigarette, and blew out some smoke from his lungs. "We've arrived." Everyone snapped to attention, beginning to look around.

Jean took out the flashlight, and tried to turn it on. "Dammit, I can't see the lever in this kind of light…" He fumbled around with the flashlight, trying to feel for the switch. However, the world suddenly got a little bit lighter around him, sighing in relief. "There we go-" And he looked up.

His partner Nicholas was looking at him with a disapproved face, holding a lantern in his hand. "I prefer the easy-to-use to the new-and-in-tune." He swung the lantern around, beginning to illuminate the area. The windows in this area were closed and, in some, barred shut. This was definitely an area of a dangerous being, and whoever lived around here knew it.

Lavi took his hammer out of his pocket at last, but didn't raise it. He instead twirled it in his fingers. Sami took her notebook off her lap, keeping her finger on a fresh page of paper as if holding a gun's hammer.

None of them at all noticed that ever since two minutes ago that they were being followed. They were all looking above-ground to the roofs and the alleyways, looking at every shadow except for the biggest: the water. When the boat blew up into pieces and sending them flying into the fluid shadow, they didn't even scream. They didn't have time.

* * *

Sami crashed into the water with a cold splash, becoming both drenched and freezing at the same time. She didn't know what to do next; she was too shocked at a lose to even contemplate what to do. The remains of their boat slapped beside her, the splinters and pieces of wood drifting by her to the bottom. She suddenly felt something pulling on her back, and she was lifted up to the surface of the water. The arm that rescued her felt large and strong, and she felt herself being almost herded against a wall. She rubbed the water from her eyes and blinked it away until she saw that she was now behind Officer Roache.

Now that she was above water, the whole world became clear. The surface of the water was crying with flames upwards, the area becoming enlightened in the face of the light. She looked to the other side of the river, seeing Lavi trying to get himself up from the water but was only grabbing at a solid wall that had no edges. Nicholas had his gun out, the hammer set back in priming a bullet. The gun was pointed at… _Jean?_ The young man was held in mid-air, floating above the water's surface and struggling from some strange force to get free. His arms were bent inwards, as if he was tied to something with rope; it took Sami a few moments to realize that Jean wasn't tied up or just floating in mid air: he was being held by the monster.

As if on cue, a few pieces of the fire hit the oil that traveled out of the broken lantern and set even more of the river ablaze, revealing what she could only describe as one thing with but a small whisper, "Akuma…"

The alleged monster of the Seine was thought to have been a murderer with tact for destructive gunpowder explosions. It was also thought to have been a mass murderer with a taste for knifes and bloody crime scenes. However, none of those assumptions were even close to what Sami saw. A beast with a large, structured body that had ridges that resembled the tiles on a turtle's shell, but none of the shape of a turtle shell; with the body-shape of a gorilla. Its teeth were that as sharp as a sharks, and the same eyes to boot. Its face was like that of an alligator, and its claws were as large as curved swords. The beast's horrid features were only enhanced by the fires, causing it to look as if like an evil spirit over a bonfire story. The beast growled, the rumbling in its throat racking its neck. Sami's mind screamed in anguish, _Jean!_ She tried to move her arms, legs, anything at _all,_ but she couldn't move a muscle. Her arms were stone and her legs were iron in the water; adrenaline was coursing through her veins and her mind was trying to move her forward. Her hand twitched, and she felt something there; her book was in her hands. She brought it up to her torso, and she tried to open it to be able to draw something, _anything!_ The monster stopped, and suddenly turned on Sami. Its mouth opened, and it spoke in a rolling whisper that hazed over the fire, "Hello, little girl." The voice crawled with such an evil aura, such… such unimaginable bloodlust…

Sami couldn't move; her hand was trapped over the pen and the book. The sight of the Akuma took away her spirit to be ready, to fight. She could only close her eyes and she tried to find something in her mind to give her strength to open again.

Then, it came to her: Lavi. He was right by the Akuma, and he didn't have any place to hang on or climb out of the water! He might have lost his hammer in the explosion, and if the Akuma sees his uniform, it might… it might…

With new-found resolve, Sami stood up on the shallow part of the river, and her hand used the pen to begin drawing a straight line up on the page of the book. Her voice gained strength as well, and she shouted in defiance of the beast, "Akuma!" The beast looked to the girl, away from the captive Jean. She continued, "Get away from them right now!"

The Akuma chortled with glee, the voice wacked the air as it slapped out of its hideous confines, "Oh, lookie here. It's an Exorcist, and what a perfect specimen she is!" The beast held Jean closer, squinting its eyes at Sami. "Don't worry, girl. I'll make sure I kill you quick so you won't feel _much_ pain."

Sami's eyes narrowed and she stabbed the pen into the book's spine. The weapon shot the line into reality from the ink like a giant pillar, slamming into the Akuma's chest dead-on. The Akuma gasped in shock, dropping Jean from its claws. Jean landed in the water out-right, causing Nicholas to break formation to help his partner in the water.

Nicholas swam with powerful strokes like that if a trained swimmer and arrived right by his partner, pulling him up. "Jean, get up!" He held the man in his arms, supporting him from a shallow part of the Seine. Jean, however, was knocked out from shock and didn't respond.

The Akuma was slammed against the stone wall of the Seine River from the attack from Sami, blinking in shock. It growled, looking to the Exorcist, "You dirty brat, you should have taken my offer _wisely!_" It grabbed the pillar from its stomach and managed to use its already slippery body to ease itself out of pillar's weight. The Akuma twisted the pillar, and it broke at the base from Sami's book. Sami managed to stand her ground in the shallow of the Seine, but the Akuma was now back in the water, standing a good ten feet higher then her. Compared to the Akuma, the five-foot-something Sami Hana looked miniscule to the fifteen-foot tall Level Two Akuma, and she knew it. However, she never took her eyes off the Akuma, keeping her stance strong and her eyes full of determination. The Akuma looked from Sami and then shifted its gaze down to Nicholas and Jean. It growled, "Maybe I won't be able to easily kill you from this distance, but I should be able to kill those humans!" It leaped from its location, charging the policemen.

Sami gasped, drawing another pillar into her notebook. "No!"

Nicholas, however, wasn't about to take this from the Akuma. He pulled out his pistol, and it met the Akuma dead-on. Surprised by this, the creature stopped only a foot away, with the pistol trained on his forehead. "Die." Nicholas growled, and the pistol fired. Of course, the bullet barely left a mark on him, but the powder inside the bullet blew up due to a faulty firing mechanism and splattered the powder into the Akuma's eyes.

The monster stopped for a second, taken aback by a human actually fighting back against it, then the powder settled into his eyes. Thus, the pain ensued. "Gah!" It screamed in agony, flying back into the water on its back. "My eyes!" The beast wailed and bellowed, its echoed bellows stretched and broke the air around it.

Sami looked in amazement at Nicholas, whom only spat into the water in front of him. "I do say, my good sir: Fuck off." He waved off his hat from water and he put it sloppily back on his head. He holstered his sidearm and began to drag Jean towards the shallow part of the river.

The Akuma was well back on its feet, albeit breathing heavily from the amount of pain. "I… I'll rip you into so many shreds there won't be a _damn body left_!" It stood up and began to charge again. Sami snapped out of shock of Nicholas' bravery, and her mind tried to go down a list of what to draw next to fight the Akuma.

However, a boyish laugh came from behind the beast, filled with whimsical glee. "Ah, you've been a bad boy, haven't you?" The beast turned on the voice, but it was immediately met with the head of a giant hammer. The beast was hit like a rock and it skid on the water until it slammed into a wall in the river. Lavi landed on the other side of the Seine, soaking wet. "That was for dunking me into the pool!" He brought his hammer up to rest on his shoulder, smiling. He looked to his friends, asking "Are you all alright?"

Nicholas gave a tip of his hat as a reply, now almost out of the water with Jean propped on his shoulder. Sami gave a full-hearted nod, replying "Yes! Thanks for saving them in time, Lavi!"

Lavi blinked, and shrugged "Sorry I was knocked out for awhile, but he threw me against the wall when he attacked the boat." He rubbed the back of his head, mumbling an "Ow."

Understanding, Sami nodded. She ran into the river's edge, stopping where the Seinne lost footing for her to be able to stand in. Now, both of the Exorcists were focused on the Akuma. Lavi frowned, and rubbed his chin. "This could be a problem…" Sami looked to Lavi in surprise, and Lavi continued on to say "He has a pretty strong outer shell of armor, especially for just a Level Two. My hammer should have smashed him to bits, but look at him!" He put his hand out, showing that the Akuma was fine. It was rattled by the shock of the hit, but fine nonetheless. "Maybe it's time that I bring out the Water Seal…" He muttered, moving his headband around. He had rarely used the Water Seal in combat, but it was clear to him now was the time to use it. He began to formulate a plan in his head, and looked to Sami's book. Lavi wadded over to Sami to her own surprise, and waved her closer. Sami leaned forward, and Lavi whispered quietly into her ears, "I've come up with a plan. I'll hit him into the air with my Water Seal, and you need to make a sharp-pointed pillar to stab him with. The force of my Water Seal should be enough to force the pillar through his armor." Seeing that Sami was taken aback by the violence of his plan, Lavi put his hand on her shoulder and spoke with a sympathetic tone, "Don't worry, Sami. When we destroy Akuma, their souls are let free from their form. We're only saving them from the Millennium Earls' evil. Do you understand?"

Sami blinked, and looked down to her book. "Right…" She breathed in and sighed; her face gave away perfectly that she was very upset with this plan on the inside, but continued on to put it into action.

Lavi brought his hammer to bear, and got his footing in the water. "Ready?" Sami nodded, so Lavi broke rank and ran for the Akuma, swinging his hammer back.

The Akuma got up, growling in detest. "You impudent brats!" The Akuma swayed in a ponderous way, "Now I will show you no mercy, even if you entreat me for it!" It leaped forward to meet Lavi in the water, his clawed hands merely fifty feet away from the Exorcist.

Lavi held his Innocence up, and he was surrounded by seals with elemental meanings written in Japanese kanji. Lavi looked to his right, and swung into the seal next to him. His hammer's head began to illuminate with the seal he just passed through, and he brought it back behind his head once again with a thorough swing.

The Akuma leaped in the air to attack Lavi while he was forming the seals, screaming one word in a prolonged battle-cry: "Die!"

Lavi smiled, and he yelled "Water Seal!" As with the statement yelled, he slammed the large hammer into the water, but it made only but a few waves. He continued on with, "Water Typhoon Drill!" Now the water under his hammer began to react, waves forming quickly under the hammer. Lavi lifted the hammer up from the sealed water, and as if like a dam holding back a river, a large spout-like water flow came from the river. The Akuma was caught directly by the spout and lifted into the air in a manner befitting that of a doll. Lavi's hammer shrunk, and he spun it around in his hand, directing the spout. He yelled back to his partner, "Get the pillar ready! I can't keep balancing him like this for long!"

"Right!" Sami quickly drew in a pillar, but this one had a pointed edge that resembled that of a pencil. She stabbed her book's spine, and it produced the pillar. She took hold of the pillar, breathed in, and the pillar came off from the book instead of just disappearing back in or just staying stuck. She quickly propped the pillar into the water of the Seine, and she put her pen back into the book, and drew an additional two inches to the pillar in the book. She stabbed the pen into the book, yelling "Extend!" and the pillar adapted to the picture, growing to the size she wanted and, at the same time, propping it self into the sand. She yelled to Lavi, "Ready!" And she held the pillar in place for good luck.

"Right!" Lavi turned the hammer down, and the spout came spinning down with the Akuma still on. Sami kept swinging the pillar, trying to aim for the Akuma. Inside her eyes, she closed her eyes once, and opened them again. The world slowed down like when she is usually drawing something that she sees, and she could see the spinning water and the Akuma falling upon her location. She realized where to aim, and she moved as so and blinked again. Time resumed in regular motion for her and the Akuma fell onto the pillar. The combined inertia of the water spout and the rigged position of the pillar allowed for the Akuma's armored-skin to be broken through completely. The spout slammed it and the pillar ran it through, leaving the rest of the water to just splash off into the Seine River.

The Akuma said nothing when it was stabbed; it was in shell-shock for a few seconds. It twitched, and looked up to Sami's eyes, giving her a final death-grin, "Not bad…" Its skin began to crack and smoke began to pour out, "For a girl." And thus, the Akuma exploded into ash and purple smoke around Sami like a rolling fog.

Sami dared not breathe, but gave one last sentence as she fell to the ground in relief. "Not bad… for a demon."

She felt a hand fall onto her shoulder, gripping it. Blushing slightly, she looked up and saw Lavi giving her a tired smile of congratulations. "And that… was your first mission. Good job." Sami nodded in agreement, and she could do no more but lay her body on Lavi's leg. She wanted to get up, but she couldn't; her muscles screamed in agony and exhaustion if she even thought of it. Lavi chuckled, and whispered to her like a watchful guardian angel, "Sleep."

And she did.

* * *

**End of Chapter Seventeen. Next mission is Kanda and Yoko's mission, stay tuned!**

**And if you don't, well… f**k.**


	19. Chapter 18

**This chapter pertains to Yoko and Kanda's mission. This takes place in Belgium one day after the events at the train station.**

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Yoko sighed and looked out the trembling window. The rain-drops carried on heavily against the moving train, seemingly trying to delay their arrival. They had exited France over one hour ago and were now approaching the capital of Belgium: Brussels. Kanda kept his head propped against the side of the window, keeping his dark and foreboding eyes locked on the Belgian farmlands passing before the train. He licked his dry lips, and mumbled over to his partner, "How much longer until we reach the station?" Yoko perked up in surprise; Kanda seldom kept to himself for the whole mission and as well when they first met on the boat from the United States.

"I'll go ask a conductor." Yoko stated, and she left the compartment. She looked from one empty end of the train to another end, where one man in a uniform was waiting with a brisk look on his face. She walked towards him, keeping her voice down so she wouldn't disturb the other passengers, "Is there any estimated time of arrival to Brussels?"

The conductor looked out of a window to his left, trying to get a good look outside. He muttered something incoherent about where they were, and he took out his pocket watch. He started his answer off slow but gained normal speed in mid-sentence, "We should be arriving in Brussels in about another hour, Madame." He closed the pocket watch as if to put emphasis on the period at the end of his answer, looking somewhat confident in his prediction.

Yoko nodded, "Thanks." And she left with only a small glance of his return of nod. Yoko returned to their compartment, opening the door.

She found Kanda inside, his eyes growing dreary with weight from drowsiness. She considered letting him fall asleep, but he immediately asked her "So, what'd he say?" in a quiet mumble.

Apprehensive, Yoko sat down in front of Kanda on a parallel seat and answered "About an hour. Maybe you should fall asleep." What was Kanda up to? He wasn't being angry nay moody. He was acting… _normal_. Could train-rides in the rain actually make him tired like a child in a horse-carried carriage?

Kanda didn't answer, but let out a large yawn. His eyes drooped a little more as he nodded, whispering "Maybe you're right… I should…" And finally, Kanda's eyes closed all together and his head fell slack against the window. Yoko waited for a whole minute, and she heard his gentle breathing; he was asleep.

Yoko looked out the window, but she could nary resist to look back at the peacefully sleeping Kanda.

* * *

The conductor was right on the time of arrival; they had arrived in Brussels in no less than an hour. When the train came to a full stop after a gradual slowing into the city, they came to rest at a Belgian train station.

Kanda was stirred from his sleep from a shake from Yoko, grumbling and saying "Tiedoll, I don't care what time it is, I'm not going to wake up." Yoko rolled her eyes, trying to think of an idea. She remembered a discussion at dinner a few days ago with Lenalee, asking her about Kanda's downsides. Lenalee sweat a little, stating that Kanda was exhaustingly mean at times, as well as extremely condescending to people that were either a part of the mission, Finders, and basically anyone. She stated, however, something about how to wake him up. She said that her own brother needed to have something whispered into his ear to wake him up; something or other about marriage. Lenalee leaned forward and said that Kanda was discovered to have the same effect, except with a different sentence. She told Yoko the message before, so she called upon it with her own lips to whisper carefully into the boy's ear: "Allen got finished with his mission early, so he's coming here to give us back-up."

As soon as this was said, Kanda was wide-awake and his hand on Mugen's hilt, growling "Bean-sprout…!" After a second, he realized that he had been duped by his partner. Returning the sword back to its sheath, he let out a growl of "Come on, let's go." Smiling in success, Yoko followed.

They walked briskly out of the station, following directions from the file of the mission. The directions placed the location of the factory to be approximately a mile away from where they currently were, so they looked around for a quick taxi ride. One taxi with horses still drawn to it was sitting at rest near the side of the street, so Kanda approached him. He took out some money, and walked over to the driver; the driver was a mustachioed Belgian man with what looked like a lot of years under his belt, as well as having brown hair and brown eyes. With approaching him, he had the man's attention. Kanda handed over the money assigned to the mission to the taxi-driver, telling him "One ride for two to the Neuhaus Chocolate Factory on the Fifth Street of Astrena." The driver nodded, pocketing the money and taking up the reigns. Kanda opened the door to the taxi and entered with Yoko following en suite. Once hearing a knock behind him as a sign to go, he snapped the reigns for the horses for them to start.

The taxi drove all the way down the avenue and turned to the right onto Fifth Street of Astrena. There, they saw the road led to a large, green and rusting gate. On the top of the gate, an old corroding sign spelt something in Belgian; the driver said to his passengers that the factory was closed for safety reasons. He continued on to say, "It's been like that ever since some kind of meteor smashed into the factory; it burned right through a window with steel bars and slammed into one of the chocolate-making machines. They couldn't remove the thing since whenever a worker got close to touch it, his gloves or clothing would go on fire!" He rubbed his mustache, mumbling to himself. "My brother used to work as a janitor in the factory… he said that they tried to turn the machine on to move the object out, but it seemed to have almost _combined_ with the thing; the chocolate that came out was as hot as a volcano's magma and was unusable. Keeping in mind that the machine was the main one for the making of chocolate…" He looked on, looking apprehensive. He looked to his passengers, asking "Are you sure you want to go here? I mean, what possible business can you have at this place?"

Kanda opened the door with bluntness and got out onto the cobblestoned road. Yoko was half-way out, but she turned back to answer the man, "We're here to investigate what happened." She received a sort of solemn good-bye from the driver, and she closed the door on the way out of the taxi.

She watched the taxi off, turning around to finding Kanda three quarters of the way to the gate. She yelped in surprise and ran off to get back into pace. "Kanda! Wait up!" She yelled out to the Exorcist.

Kanda turned his head a twitch, saying "You should have kept up; I'm not going to wait for you to catch up with the mission."

Yoko gained an anger mark on her forehead, muttering, "Cocky bastard…" They approached the rusted gate of the factory, prompting Yoko to take out her Innocence and lightly tap the gate. The bars echoed slightly but didn't budge an inch to the tap, causing Yoko to scratch her head. "How are we supposed to get inside? The file didn't say anything about the gate…"

She turned around, seeing Kanda's sword out and the blade prepared. He slashed up towards the gate and, in essence, Yoko; she leaped out of the way of the blade and it slashed through the rusted lock with ease. Kanda paused for but a second, then he kicked open the gate with his booted foot. He walked in without any remorse or guile, saying "That's how you get in."

Sweat-dropped, Yoko thought in disbelief, _He almost_ killed_ me there!_ She shook her head, and sighed. _No, he's right… we've got to go find the Innocence, and we shouldn't take a locked gate of a closed factory as deterrence._ She stepped inside and looked around; there was nothing of great notice to the factory's state. There were places where posts and memos would have been placed, a window that was cracked with what seemed to have been a bottle, and there were several smaller buildings that lined in front of the factory.

"Offices." Kanda said, obviously feeling Yoko's eyes look around behind him. "The place where we need to go is the main complex right in front of us. We'll enter through the front door and search for the Innocence inside." He turned back, his eyes staring through her. "Do you have a problem with that?" Yoko shook her head, and Kanda turned back and remained silent. After less of a minute of walking, they reached the door. Kanda kicked the door open with a strong kick of his left foot and took the door off its hinges. He walked in rather briskly while Yoko followed cautiously, still not feeling entirely right about breaking-and-entering.

They traversed through halls that had doors upon doors of words in both Belgian and French, seeing papers on boards with the same deal. At a time like this, Yoko wished that Sami was around to translate for them. But anyhow, they finally found the main factory floor by opening a door to it, revealing tons of machinery and lines of factory conduits. Kanda's eyes looked to the left side out of the door while Yoko looked to the right. They saw neither a person nor an Akuma, so this prompted Kanda to say "Split up. I'll go this way. You go wherever you want, I don't care."

He immediately waltzed off without another word to Yoko, causing her face to redden in anger. She kept a yell in, and managed to calm herself down with a sigh. _I guess I'll have to get used to him…_ She shook her head, and walked off in the opposite direction of Kanda. The catwalk that they entered on overlooked a factory floor that was built into the ground rather than above. This allowed for more machinery to be placed while not making a large building in height but rather in length, saving time in construction. Yoko walked for what seemed _forever_ until she finally made it all the way around to the other side of the factory. She had stopped under the boarded up windows, trying to reconsider the plan due to lack of results. Her mind caught hold of a light that was shining on her shoulder and ending down to the ground with a meeker form. She followed the ray all the way above the fortified windows to about ten feet above them, where planks made on the inside were nailed down on a single place in the middle of the wall. Yoko jumped up and grabbed hold of one of the large windows, using it as leverage as she climbed steadily to the wooden wall on the stone wall. She reached at last; there was a small hole in the planks that peeked to the outside of the factory, letting in a ray of grayed sunshine. She reached for her Innocence that was strapped to her back, but she realized that if she decided to use it, she would have to either jump back to be able to acquire enough force to break the planks or she would have to try and saw into it while holding the bare minimum to the top of the scythe; both were impossible scenarios. She let go of the staff and rubbed her chin, all the while hanging from a plank with her hand and standing on the top of a window bar. The best idea came to her in an instant, and she implemented it as follows: she swung her arm back and smashed through the planks with a well-placed punch. Light from the outside broke through to the darkness, creating now a tree of light instead of just a small twig of it. Yoko swung her back against the wall of the factory while keeping her grip on the planks of wood and used her eyes to follow the light's path.

At the end of the ray, she saw what she could only mean victory: a broken machine with wooden planks nailed on it, as well as a sign written in scribbled Belgian and French. Yoko leaped down from the window bar to the catwalk, continuing on to use her momentum to grab hold of the catwalk's railway and rolling over it to perform a jump to the floor. Landing successfully, she confirmed her sight of the machine before reaching for her Innocence. _I'll use my Innocence this time; I've got plenty of room to move to attack._ She pulled the staff from the holster on her back and put her hand to the line-knot. "Invocation!" She commanded, moving her hand out. Feeling the curve of the scythe's blade in her mind, she completed the crescent with the edge of the blade. She spun the completely summoned scythe above her head and brought it down upon the machine's temporary fix. The wood shattered into splinters and pieces, spreading into all directions and revealed its prize: the Innocence orb. Yoko rested the scythe behind her back, holding it in place with her left arm keeping a grip on it while letting it rest behind her shoulder. She looked around, and tried to take the Innocence. Her skin felt odd as she came forward, and she felt what the other factory workers had felt before: burning. She brought her hand back in pain, hissing and trying to wipe the burn off. When the burning stop, she looked down to the Innocence, "I think we'll need to contact the local Finder's for help."

While she was looking down on the Innocence, she did not seem to notice that, behind her, an Akuma was lurking. The Akuma was a Level Two with a body like that of a statue but colors of that of a jaguar. The Akuma opened up its left hand to reveal a small, tube-like cannon buried into its palm, and it hissed a laugh. "Good bye, Exorcist!" It whispered, and opened fire upon its prey.

What was said before was completely true: it _seemed_ that she didn't notice. However, she noticed for quite some time when she landed that she wasn't alone at all. Calling upon her past training she shoved herself out of the way of the slay of bullets, dodging to her right for about five feet. Using her weapon like a pole-vault; she lifted herself high into the air to get back on her feet and face the Akuma. She landed in perfect form, and looked up to the demon with a trickery smirk on her face, "Got'cha."

The beast growled and snorted in arrogance, "Beginners luck." It brought its right arm up as well, also equipped with a cannon, and opened fire at Yoko.

Yoko swung backwards with a flip and stood on her hands as she spun herself; the bullets missed their mark, merely burning the wall behind the Exorcist. Yoko brought her scythe to bear, holding it in preparation to fight back. _I hope I can get this right…_She gulped down a lump in her throat, and she charged the beast.

Laughing, the Akuma chided her while firing, "Fool! You'll only make your death easier for me to deliver to you!" It closed the space between it's arms and continued firing in a single pillar. Yoko, however, kept dodging every bullet by swerving to the right of the Akuma. The Akuma followed, not paying any mind to the fact she was closing in. It laughed maniacally, continuing it's spray of bullets.

Yoko was now less than ten feet from the beast and by God she could smell the thing; it smelt of death and machinery of no kind she's ever smelt, even in battle. The Akuma pulled back three feet, suddenly realizing the danger it was in. However, it was far too late for any retreat, for as it pulled back, Yoko swerved now to the Akuma's _left,_ bringing her scythe to bear into the Akuma's armor. The Akuma cried in surprise, and Yoko swung the blade through; it was all over. The beast fell to the ground, a huge gash through it that did not bleed any blood. Yoko put her scythe's end to the floor, standing over the Akuma.

The dying beast looked up to its slayer, and it only had one thing to whisper: "Burn in hell, Exorcist." With the dying word out, the Akuma blew up into a whisp of purple gas.

The gas subsided around her like a simple gust of wind, and she gave out a sigh of relief. She heard movement behind her, however, and turned around in surprise. Behind her, there were six _new_ level two Akuma, and all of them were looking directly at her. One of them, a clown-like Akuma, stepped forward to challenge her, "Not bad, but I can already tell from looking at you: you're a rookie. You might dance real pretty with one of us, but can you do the same with _all_ of us?" The other Akuma laughed behind him in agreement.

Yoko brought her scythe to bear; gritting her teeth in frustration, _There's way too many of them! I have to try and separate them to try and take them out one at a time, but how?_ Her eyes looked to the left, and over on a wall about thirty feet away was a metal latter to the catwalk. _That's it!_ The Akuma leaned forward to charge en masse, but she turned her entire body to the right and began running. The Akuma followed now, fanning out to catch her in a corner.

Yoko kept running straight for the wall, and had only one favor to ask of the world: _Please let this work._ With that said, she stopped at the wall when she met it, but the Akuma still charged her in expectation that they would crush her with sheer mass. However, when one ducked to gore her, she leaped _onto_ its head and jumped off, causing it to slam against the wall with no victim. She leaped onto another's shoulder and jumped off with making a run for the wall with the latter.

The lead Akuma, apparently the clown one, growled and yelled "She tricked us!" in rage, resuming the chase for the girl. While the Akuma held vast strength, range and even some with speed, Yoko had the advantage with _her_ speed and acrobatics; it was like a fast kick-boxer versus a team of sumo-wrestlers!

Yoko reached the latter first and leaped up to the latter, gaining several steps in the process. The Akuma reached the bottom as soon as she had reached the top, causing bickering to ensue among some of the demons. However, the clown wasn't as easy to dishearten, as he leaped immediately after Yoko, breaking through the catwalk and chasing after her on it. Yoko was growing tired, fatigue catching up with her just like the Akuma. The catwalk made a left in the middle of the factory among the tanks, and Yoko tried to run that way to get a short-cut. She was cut-off by a gargoyle-like Akuma that landed in front of her by use of flying with wings; she was, effectively, trapped like a rat. Yoko looked from one end to another, seeing the clown and the gargoyle, and looked down only to meet the blood-thirsty eyes of the other gang of Level Two's. She brought her weapon up, but managed to whisper one thing in her mind: _Kanda… where are you?!_

The gargoyle hissed in laughter, spread its wings and charged to most likely finish Yoko off. However, it stopped when it realized that the clown's attention was on another thing, pointed up into the ceiling of the factory. The gargoyle and the other Akuma looked too, and their eyes widened. Yoko followed them, and she saw the one thing she really needed right now: Kanda! He stood above them on a pipe that collected water from the roof of the factory, his hand on Mugen. The gargoyle studdered, and said "S- So what? There are only two of you, after all! We'll kill both of you and take your Innocence's to the Earl!"

The dark form of Kanda scoffed, as if insulted by the notion that they were even capable of killing _him_, and unsheathed his Mugen. Invocating the blade, he held the blade above his head in a two-handed grip on the hilt. He only muttered one statement, as if commanding some unknown force to come forth to his sword: "First Illusion: Hell's Insects," And he swung down. Out of the swing, came a sort of scar, almost a tear in reality that stayed in suspense in the air; out of it came a swarm of apparitions that looked like swarms of locusts, each one taking a piece of the tear with them. The first of them took down the gargoyle by easily ripping it apart. The clown tried to get through them by firing missiles from it's shoulders, but the insects soon took it as well.

As follows, the rest of the Akuma were easily felled by the young man, and through it all, he did not even blink. Not once.

Kanda tsked at Yoko, "You're completely fool hearted, aren't you? You didn't think to call for me for back-up, or at least to tell me about the Innocence. You thought you could handle it yourself, didn't you?" Yoko gripped her fist, holding in her response. Kanda leaped down to her, landing perfectly on the catwalk with nothing but a metal clank of his boots. He sheathed his sword and stood in front of her with nay a smile on his face, but a scowl in his heart and a fire in his eyes. "You have little idea of what the Akuma are capable of, aren't you?" he waited for a response, then turned from her to leave, "You don't belong as an Exorcist, anyways."

_That's it!_ Yoko yelled in her mind, and she grabbed Kanda by the shoulder with her left arm. She spun him around to face her and her right fist connected with the man's face, sending him accidentally flying off the catwalk. Kanda fell not to the floor to injury, but instead into… a vat of chocolate?! Yoko looked over the edge, realizing what she had done. _This is not good…_

_

* * *

_

**Yay. New chapter is out. Joseph Colombo, Dairu Gottschalk and Krory's mission is next.**

**-Throws confetti. Of Youth.- **

**Had to re-edit this due to an editing error on my behalf. My bad. Oh, and I'll explain how our Lord Jesus of Martial Arts and Blocking All Things Fist-like Kanda got face'd by Yoko in due time. Please don't criticize that, it's fan-fiction after all. If this was going to be made into a manga, it would be worth a few laughs here and there, but if in all Katsura Hoshino herself believes that I would need to change that scene to be able to go into manga/OVA/anime form, than I would reluctantly do it, but only after talking it over and trying to at least partially include it, even if it would be in a Corner Special.  
**

**No disrespect to any of my readers who think it was OOC, though, but this fanfiction has a _plot_ of my own personal design; it will unfold and everything will make sense in due time, so don't pick at things that don't _seem_ consistent with the manga.**

**[A/N: If someone _was_ to make this into a manga, or at least a one-shot first chapter of our first chapter, I would be so happy... -looks off into distance.-]  
**


	20. Chapter 19: Part One

**This was supposed to be posted months ago, but I lost the original work. Sorry! This takes place about four days after everyone left the Headquarters. It takes place in Portugal. **

**Part One of Two due to everyone wondering where in the bloody**

**hell I am.**

**(Enjoy the yaoi fanservice.)**

* * *

The sun was beginning to set on the horizon, the last rays of light reflect off the waters of the Tagus River in a beautiful display. This was Portugal, a nation in a trio on the Iberian Peninsula at the end of the day. It made perfect scenery for a horse-drawn carriage going along a cobbled road, making haste near the river.

Inside the carriage were Dairu, Joseph and Krory, whom were seated almost entirely opposite of the fourth man in the carriage with the exception of Krory, whom was too big to fit with the other two. Dairu was in deep conversation with the fourth man while Joseph was asleep against the window. Not as if he would have understood anyways. The fourth man was a Finder for the Black Order, stationed near the Tagus River in the middle of Spain, which would allow for fast travel to any location on the Peninsula due to its centralized location.

The Finder had found them in a town on the border between Portugal and Spain, impossibly lost. They wore their uniforms openly, not bothering to cover themselves up since they themselves had no idea where to go, so they thought their uniforms would help the matter along. While Joseph was anxious, thinking that it was a bad idea to wear their uniforms so openly in public, Dairu and Krory were trying to find a map from a store in the town market, but neither of them could speak Portuguese nor Spanish. The Finder found them frantically searching outside the local market, himself stopping in that town to get some lunch. The Exorcists, relieved that someone in the Black Order has found them, accepted the Finder's offer of help in a heart-beat. They boarded the carriage, the Finder telling the driver where to go and the cart making steadfast pace toward Almourol.

The carriage arrived shortly after nightfall, Dairu waking the sleeping Joseph up with a few shakes of his shoulder. The boy gave a great yawn, stretching out with stiff limbs. Dairu helped his drowsy friend out, balancing him to and off the step. Krory had exited the carriage a long while ago with the Finder, looking over the river towards the castle that lay before them. No people came here anymore, except for a few aspiring historians and some curious locals. Other then that, it seemed that they would be completely alone for this operation, which both was relieving but all the more frightening. Dairu, Krory and the Finder, whose name is Aloisio Anibal, went over the plan of attack: there were several possibilities: There was an Akuma trap there in unknown numbers, waiting to take any intruders by surprise before another force arrives. In that case, a countermeasure would be taken of ambushing the ambush by sneaking in and taking a straight-line towards the middle of the castle. That, however, would leave them open to a grouped-range attack by the blood-bullets of the Akuma, so that plan wouldn't work. There could be a case, Dairu pointed out, that Akuma aren't there but are on the move towards the castle. The Exorcists would quickly run into the castle's keep, whereas Krory and Joseph would stand at ready by the main door to limit the movement of the Akuma while Dairu and Aloisio would move in to retrieve the Innocence. When the Innocence is retrieved successfully, Aloisio would make a run for the back of the castle, even jumping into the water if necessary to get away. Dairu would cover his retreat, and when he reached the shore he was to run directly to the carriage. The carriage was given specific orders from the Exorcists to take Aloisio and the Innocence away, to return in approximately thirty minutes from the nearest town. If the Akuma were still around after the time-limit and there was no sound or battle going on, the Exorcists are dead. The Akuma are gone, the Exorcists will be waiting off the river.

Simple as that.

* * *

Once the carriage left to take the path through the woods surrounding the river, Dairu took the lead and slowly brought himself into the water. He shivered slightly, the water notwithstanding the usual summer's heat that the sun provided. He took a deep breath, and began to swim, the water beginning to soak his black-and-red uniform. Krory followed reluctantly, and Joseph himself practically jumped in, not for one to be left behind just because of a little cold water. Aloisio followed, not really minding the water himself and just took it in stride. The four swam across the river, reaching the rocky bed of the castle's island. The rocks were significantly big as well as angular, so grabbing hold and hoisting themselves out of the water was a simple task. Another matter entirely, however, was how to entire the castle without making any noticeable marks or signs. The door was hinged and locked shut tight, obviously the mark of work by the government whom wanted to deter any thieves or rowdy children, and the walls before them now were very large indeed.

Dairu rubbed his chin, trying to think of a solution at hand. Joseph looked to his friend, and tried to help figure it out. He began to try and put his fingers into the stone spaces, looking very carefully while rubbing his shoes against the wall. Dairu finally noticed Joseph's strange behavior, and asked, ""Che diavolo stai facendo, Joseph?" _What on earth are you doing, Joseph?_

Joseph stopped his actions and gave his friend a perplexed look, "Sto cercando di capire questa cosa, ovviamente! Voglio andar là ed esser pronto per l'akuma, subito!" _I'm trying to figure this out, of course! I wanna get in there and get ready for the Akuma, right now!_ Joseph has always been the eager type, and obviously he was no different in this situation. Dairu understood that Joseph had all the best intentions, but he occasionally was too ready for action, but not ready for _retreat_, or _planning_. If anyone told him to stand still besides Dairu, Joseph would just give a humph and a silent shoulder. The stubborn type.

Answering, "Lo so, Joseph, ma dovrai aspettare. Questi muri sono troppo larghi e troppo ben costruiti per poterli scalare. Inoltre, siamo ancora inzuppati dal fiume, quindi riposeremmo comunque."___I know, Joseph, but you're going to have to wait. These walls are too large and too well built to be able to be scaled. Besides, we're all still sopping wet from the river, so we'd just slip off anyways_

Krory, meanwhile, was standing oblivious to what they were saying, looking to Aloisio for help. Aloisio shrugged, stating, "Don't look at me, I'm just as confused as you are."

Krory looked almost down-trodden, changing his gaze to the wall but still kept conversation with Aloisio, "How are we supposed to get up and over these walls?"

To this, Aloisio positioned himself carefully on the rocks so he could kneel down to his back-pack, which he placed in a nestled place between four mentioned rocks. Out his hands came from the pack with a grapple and some rope, non-attached. Krory watched the Portuguese Finder as Dairu and Joseph went on about the plan, attention drawn away from the rest of the group. Aloisio expertly tied in the rope tightly into the grapple's end, and gave it a test twirl. Three times it spun, and Aloisio approved of the hook's viability. He suddenly stepped forward, casually brushing against Dairu and Joseph, interrupting their secluded discussions. He held up the hook for them to see, and told "You might want to get back a little; this hook could easily puncture someone's skin or eye if it had a good swing."

Understanding, Dairu quickly backed off from the rocks and grabbed Joseph's hand, leading him away. With enough room to swing, Aloisio let some more rope go, allowing the hook to fall further from his hands. With this, he swung the hook and threw it all the way up to the castle's walls, where the hook got leverage on an edge. The rope became taut, but several tugs from below gave an all-clear.

Dairu stepped forward, nodding to Aloisio whom proceeded to hand over the rope. Dairu got a good grip on the rope, and began to scale the wall. There was no reason to go over the plan again; every single person had replayed it to heart. After all, one mistake or flaw by a single person could kill practically the whole team.

That's just how the life of the Black Order went on. Their members wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

_We should've dried off before doing this,_ Thought Dairu with a exasperated tone. The walls were completely dry and flat, while they were wet down to the skin from swimming. Because they were so wet, Dairu had to almost stomp his feet on the castle walls, as if crushing bugs at a ninety degree angle. He held onto the rope for dear life, not desiring to feel the full effect of falling onto the rocks below. His hands occasionally gave way, giving him slight burns on his hands from the tightness of the grip he had, making him hiss almost every fifteen seconds from slipping. Finally, he reached the top of the wall, and swung his left leg over. He dragged himself over the wall, finally relieved from the burning ropes. Dairu looked around the courtyard, illuminated by the moon above them. It was a fantastically clear night, giving the moon's rays more angles to fill. The entire courtyard was empty as far as he could see from his position on the wall, both doorways clear of movement. He waved his hand over the wall, motioning for the next person to climb up. He heard the rustle of clothes and another's boots beginning to clap against the wall, so he began to walk in a small patrol around the wall's path, to his left.

Aloisio scaled the walls of the castle with the mastery of a thief and the strength of a warrior, yet did it in a silence of a brisk walk. In his mind, he was going over the basic and advanced training of the Finders. They were, in essence, like modern-day reconnaissance soldiers of the battle-field, only lacking in name of such. Aloisio could move freely as he did now only because he was not assigned a talisman. He and the other Finders both knew that the talismans were heavy to bear out of hands, and were holly inefficient to high-leveled Akuma unless clustered together in a pack of perhaps three to five. Even then, they were heavy as well as expensive to make, making the Finders even more the dogs of the Order even while they staked their lives to find the Innocences hidden in the world. The Finders outside of the Order's Headquarters generally blamed all the leaders and officers of the Order for such high casualty rates, but those who have actually _visited_ the Headquarters change their minds entirely. Aloisio himself was, at first, cynical about the Order's care for him and his fellow men, but he was one day assigned to help with the move of the Headquarters after the attack by the Noah, he found himself to be completely wrong in his assumption – the officers at the Headquarters _do_ care about them, very much in fact! He saw in awe as the officers, scientists and even some Section Directors jump in to help out, treating the Finders as complete equals as people. The Exorcists were generally kept busy with other matters entirely; apparently, some of them had lost their weapons from a previous engagement and wanted to oversee the reconstruction of their new weapons. However, one Exorcist in particular was there to help out the mingled moving group, but Aloisio could not catch his name. However, his face he would never forget, that was for sure: A bright, young face with bone-white-and-silver hair with no particular style to it; a scar, almost like a tattoo going down his left eye and almost reaching the edge of his mouth. The boy was courteous, strong-willed as well as a brilliant person, in terms of politeness and general demeanor. Aloisio had before been skeptical and cynical, almost expecting to be met with terrible people at the Headquarters, but now that he saw even just the general attitude of so few of their officers and one Exorcist, he now has the will to move on. That is why he scales walls. That is why he swims in the ice cold and doesn't flinch for a second. He wants to work for the people who truly care for him and his companions, and if he loses his life during the process, he'll have no regrets. Not one.

* * *

Aloisio finished climbing, landing himself on the right side of the rope. He looked down to Krory and Joseph, waving for them to come up. Joseph quickly asserted himself to the rope and began his attempts to climb. However, his shoes were still wet from the swim, so he slipped and slid whenever he tried to get a good handling on the rope. Joseph repeatedly grunted in aggravation as he slid, which beckoned Dairu to come investigate what the matter was. When he found out, he gave Aloisio a look of worry and quickly whispered down to Joseph, "Joseph, fermo!" _Joseph, stop!_

Joseph, surprised to hear from Dairu, looked up in question and asked "Eh? Perché, che c'è?"_ Huh? Why, what's wrong?  
_

"Stai facendo troppo casino," __Whispered Dairu, "l'akuma potrebbe tenderci un'imboscata se sa dove siamo, quindi dobbiamo star zitti."_You're making too much noise, the Akuma could ambush if they know we're here, so we have to stay quiet._ He emphasized the last words, trying to make it clear for his friend. Joseph took this in and let a breath out, stepping back to mutter incoherently under his breath. He looked back to Aloisio and spoke in English, "What're we going to do now? We don't have a lot of time here, and we need to get everyone across here. We can't use the front gate, I was just there, and it's sealed shut from the inside."

Aloisio was visibly stumped by this problem. He moved over the wall's line and whispered down to Krory, "Mr. Krory, do you think you can climb this wall with a little weight?

Krory, surprised, asked with a little caution, "What kind of weight?"

* * *

And so, here they were: Arystar Krory the Third was climbing up the wall, with Joseph hanging on, by shoulders, to his back. Arystar could clearly hear the mumbles of contempt behind him, but he couldn't understand a single thing he was saying. After all, Krory could only speak English and Romanian. Anything outside of those two languages sounds mostly nonsense to him. "Could you stop being so mad? We're almost there." Krory said, almost to himself but loud enough to reach Joseph.

Joseph spoke louder, turning to almost a spit of respite, clearly remarking against Krory. Arystar only sighed, and finally reached the top. He let go of the rope to grab hold of the ledge, pulling himself and Joseph over in due course. Joseph, as soon as Krory's shoes touched the stone wall's floor, began to get away from the so-called vampire, dropping without care of comfort from his shoulders. Arystar made no effort to stop him, allowing the Italian boy to scurry away. Meanwhile, Dairu and Aloisio were in the courtyard, waiting by an opening into the keep by the door-opening on the right of the castle. Joseph dropped down from the wall, landing into the grass which had taken over the whole yard from centuries of disuse. Krory merely took the stairs down, for obvious reasons.

* * *

Dairu pulled out his personal pocket-watch from his right-jacket pocket. The watch had a frame with a sculpted crescent and star, reminding him of who he is and where he is from and, most importantly, whom he got everything he has ever had from. He pressed the small click and the frame opened up to its clock; it is nine o'clock at night, and it's nearly pitch black save for the moon. He put the watch away, stating "Okay, we've spent about eight minutes getting in. Now, we've got to get the Innocence and wait inside the keep." He stopped, looking everyone in the eyes before continuing, "Aloisio and I will wait with the Innocence, with me protecting him, while you two wait by the door and attack any Akuma that try to enter, if any do. Joseph and Krory will drive the Akuma into two groups, making a clear path for me and Aloisio to run through. Don't break formation for anything, since if even if just Joseph breaks the formation, the Akuma from his group could overrun Krory or myself with sufficient force. It is imperative that we get Aloisio and the Innocence across the river, does everyone agree?" Joseph didn't move from his spot, preferring for Dairu to whisper the translation later. Aloisio nodded, fastening his gear on his back.

Krory interjected, "I've been fighting the Akuma for several months now, as you know. If it comes down to it, I could hold off a fairly large group by myself."

Dairu blinked in surprise, looking upon the timid face of the Romanian. Krory had a sort of confusable face and a sort of back-tracked personality to him. Tall as he may have been, he was significantly thin with a pale complexion and seemingly whitening hair from black. He hardly gave off exactly the impression of a sort of hardy Exorcist that could hold a group of Akuma by himself, as you could imagine. Dairu nodded for now, stating "Alright then. I'll trust you to that, Arystar." Arystar gave him a slight nod in agreement, and they moved out to the keep.

* * *

In the moonlight, Portugal was sound asleep as was its close sisters of Spain and Andorra, along with its close cousins on the British Isles, in the western-most part of Europe and even Gibraltar which was fixed with the sisters on the land surrounded by water except for one path. Barely a gust of wind came over the land, but if it did, it summoned a mighty gasp from the trees and a whisper from the fields, as if to speak back to the wind which brought them forth. However, the night is to be disturbed, like so many other nights for so many years. However, unlike many places where these paranormal disturbances happened, this place offered barely a soul between themselves, which made the demons upset with greed. They would have to make due for what they were going to have, for this time he sent the pack of twenty spherical-shaped demons and a baker's dozen of more humanoid but no less frightening demons for a mission of their own.

These demons whom broke the bliss of the night like so many other nights were Akuma, and they were closing in on Almourol.

Chaos approaches.

**The second part of this cometh soon.**


	21. Chapter 19: Part Two

**Here is the action you've been waiting for! The awaited conclusion of chapter nineteen(although not of the Portugal mission!)!**

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**

Dairu sat on the keeps main stairway, near the very top of the keep and outside the door where they suspected the Innocence was being held. Aloisio was sitting a few steps above him, carefully carving a piece of small drift-wood he found on the floor into something non-specific. Arystar sat on the floor near the stairs, preferring to sit completely down then to have a defined seat. Joseph was the only one up and about, laying his back against the entrance of the keep and periodically re-adjusting his Innocence on his shoulder, keeping watch to the distance of dark and moonlight.

There was an iron silence through the area, except for the distant whistling of crickets and the smooth movements of knife against wood. When Krory spoke, almost everyone jumped a little in surprise, "If you don't mind me asking, Dairu…" He mumbled in a sort of wondering thought.

"Asking what?" Dairu responded, an eyebrow raised.

"Asking you… how you learned to make plans like this. You're almost a natural plan-maker, but I don't know anything about your past." Krory stopped, breathing in, continuing, "Were you in the military before you joined the Order?"

A smiled cracked through the solemn, waiting face of Dairu's, as if the question was so preposterous to ask that it was comical. "No, I was a student in Berlin before I joined. Besides, Yoshimata's the one who has taught me the most about plan-making." Seeing Krory look a little more confuse, no doubt because of his naturally tan skin, Dairu continued, "I lived in the Ottoman Empire before joining."

Krory nodded, understanding. Dairu continued, propping his arms on his lap and placing his head upon his hands, "I was the last born son in a family of..." He rubbed his chin and sort of shuffled in his seat in mild content but also in invisible discomfort, as if the mere beginning mention of his family had sent something as if a needle into his back, and now he was trying to find his way around it. Sighing, "Fanatics, to put it lightly. My great-great grandfather had been a Janissary, which was an elite core of soldiers in our Empire."

Blinking in curiosity, Krory pressed the matter further, "'Was an elite core'? What happened to them?"

Dairu's smile quickly faded, his eyes moving slightly to look at the darkness of the unwashed wall. "They grew corrupt back in the eighteen hundred's, taking on bountiful lands for themselves and killing sultans who tried to reform them back into a core of soldiers. Sultan Mahmud the Second, after trial and turbulence and several years of preparation finally deposed of the Janissary Corps and instituted a modern Ottoman army. My great grandfather's father was not just a soldier in the corps, but a Çorbacı as well. He was Europe's military equivalent of a colonel, but his orta, battalion, was not deployed in Istanbul or any other areas in the center of the Empire. With the..." He cleared his throat, becoming visibly even more uncomfortable, "... 'Event', he was given orders to disband his orta on threat of execution, and even then he tried to refuse. It wasn't out of corruption he refused, but out of pride." Dairu licked his lips, but found no saliva in his mouth to use. He took to his canteen on his hip which they collected from a Spanish market on the way here, drinking the water with elation he could pause.

When finished, he continued to accommodate Krory's obvious fascination of Dairu's family history. "He, my great-great-great grandfather, believed that the Janissary's were a group of proud warriors, whom were the guards of the Sultan even in the events that preceded him then. He used to say, 'There may be rotten apples on the tree now, but they shall fall off in time, for the tree is strong, and the freshest apples are stronger, and will stand the test of time while the corrupted apples rot away to the ground'. This meant that he actually believed that the Janissary corps was still a group of hearty warriors, even though that there was such obvious corruption and treacherous acts from the group. He..." As Dairu went further into the story now, his face was almost contorted and reddened with disgust and lack of viable rest between sentences, stressing his ancestor's obvious ignorance with vile parody in his voice. He stopped himself short of continuing onto attacking, instead brought his head down in shame and muttered in Ottoman Turkish, '_Repel evil with that which is better. We are Best-Acquainted with the things they utter_', a verse from the Qur'an. Krory continued to wait in appropriate silence, respecting Dairu's feelings. Meanwhile, Aloisio had taken to listening to the Exorcists history, curious about how he came to be.

* * *

Although those two were listening intently, Joseph still leaned against the frame of the door with no intention of looking over to Dairu. His friend specifically gave him the private mission of looking out for them at the door, since out of the whole group, Joseph could see the best in the dark. Even then, he had already heard all of his friend's history, and that's how they connected when they met months ago: they both had dismal lives before meeting each other. Contemplating, Joseph gave a small yawn of boredom. He himself had a sort of cynical look on life, giving no mind to things within like Yoko, Dairu or Yoshimata. He didn't bother with 'the big picture'; whatever happened, happened. There wasn't anything to change that, but he still gave sympathy to one of the only people to _give_ him sympathy, since even though he was cynical and dowry, he still had a conscious. The yawn complete, his eyes looked beyond to the horizon again, and he stood up straight in alarm. Right beyond the horizon, thirty-three large objects were moving towards them -- Akuma, barely a mile away. His breath caught, he tried to regain his breath and then called over to his unsuspecting comrades, "Dairu! Stanno arrivando!" _Dairu, they're coming!_

_

* * *

_

Dairu finished contemplating his words, after a minute of silence, continuing, "My ancestor would have rather _died_ then quit his Janissary ways, but his subordinate officers convinced him to just let it go and keep the 'ways' to themselves. When the forces of the Empire moved in to continue to break up the rest of the Janissaries, his orta gladly broke up and spread throughout the Empire. Although contact was limited between each other, many soldiers still kept contact with fellow soldiers, as if their orta had been--" Dairu immediately stopped, and everyone was in alarm when they heard Italian being shouted towards them, the echoes breaching the solemn calmness of the serine, melancholy hall. Dairu blinked, recognizing the voice, and stood up while simultaneously adjusting his Innocence on his arm, "They're coming! Krory, Aloisio, you know what to do!"

Krory broke into sprint to reach the edge of the stairs, reaching to his pockets for a canteen of his own. Opening the flask, he drank down about half the onyx-colored liquid. _Akuma blood._ Krory himself relished the idea of carrying _blood_ around him, especially since he had been so traumatized as a child, being taunted as a vampire of the village, but he did so out of convenience purposes. He first thought of the idea a month after becoming an Exorcist, bringing the flasks with him a month after so into Noah's Ark, battling the formidable Jasdevi, even probably _dying._ He learned to be more careful since then.

The blood took effect immediately, his skin turning a shade of reddish-pink pigment. His face contorted with a wicked and cocky smile, his muscles tightening. "I... smell... _prey_..." The Baron growled with absolute delight in his voice, going so far as to jump _off_ the balcony, grabbing onto it again with his hands after a sort of roll in the air that made him into a sphere in the air, and literally launching himself off the balcony to the bottom, laughing along the way.

Sweat-dropping for a moment, Aloisio and Dairu shook it off and got to work. Aloisio first tried to ram his way through the door to the chamber that they kept company outside of, but it would not budge. He rubbed his shoulder, scuffed from the hardened blow with a 'damn it' under his breath.

Dairu lightly put his hand on Aloisio's shoulder, shepherding him out of his way. He put his index finger and middle finger combined by his thumb under them on his Innocence, over the top of his hand, muttering "Invocation," and his weapon appeared, covering his hand and lower arm. He immediately on instinct pressed the small notch-button inside and unseen in the glove, on a sort of handle that is meant for controlling the entirety of the obscene weapon, and the slightly large, roundish object that rests on top of Dairu's hand and gauntlet fired. The chain, dragged by its master, ringed as the object smashed through the wooden door as if it were a cannon ball against the bow of a ship.

Outside the window that gave the keep a see into the courtyard, Aloisio and Dairu both could hear the explosions that could mean only one thing: the Akuma have arrived.

* * *

Arystar slammed into the floor of the keep almost immediately after take-off, the foundation shaking from both his might and the age of itself. Not minding the damage he may have done, the beast ran, gliding across the face of the earth as if it were but another sky to explore. The beastly Baron shot past the boy, nearly dragging with him with a gust of disturbed wind as he prepared to launch himself again as twice before. His heels dug down to the stones and dirt of the yard, gathering his momentum.

In front of him, he could barely count all of the Akuma that floated in the air, or the ones that sat on top of them for support. One of them cackled, pointing a menacing finger towards Arystar, "Rushing towards your own imminent death, Exorcist?"

Over the Baron's face an arrogant but strong smile formed, shooting back, "That…" He clenched his fists, barring his teeth, "… remains to be seen," and he let his momentum free. The ground echoed with the force of his launch, sending dirt flying behind him like left-over residue from a cannon. The stronger and obviously more intelligent Akuma leaped off their 'steeds', preferring not to get so close to the vampire-like Exorcist. However, the lower and lethargic Akuma that lacked planning or concern weren't so lucky; with no other Akuma to guide them, they floated like open targets for the mad-happy Baron.

The Baron met the first one with a slap on each sides of its body, breaking through the armor to literally crack the demon in half. With no time to waste, Arystar quickly twisted his body to turn himself _onto_ the remains in practically a second while they were in the air, allowing him to propel himself to meet the stronger Akuma. Firstly, he met a sort of teddy bear-like demon, whom immediately revealed a cannon within its arm to dispatch Krory. To this, Arystar grabbed the arm and threw himself at the demon's stomach, fangs to sink into the skin. The bear was too surprised and paralyzed by this unorthodox way to kill, leaving it helpless to fight back as the Baron injected his own blood into its bloodstream. The Akuma squealed in a high-pitch whine, vaporizing in seconds. From where it was, an already disappearing cloud hung and shining in the moonlight was red flakes that could remind one of snow. _Crimson._

The demon that previously teased Krory, shaped like a gargoyle with wings and all, was now in shock; its previous overconfidence replaced with a rapidly growing sense of fear. It had a reason to now. It screeched, "Stay away from him! He's a close-quarters fighter, so don't let him near you!" And the other humanoid Akuma all sounded agreement, while the lower leveled ones simply followed as they were told with stolid silence.

Krory used his Exorcist cloak as if a completely solid form and smacked himself to a different stance in the air. He previously looked towards the moon, but now he looked down towards a lower leveled Akuma below him. Rather then to attack the weakling and give it reason to fight back, Krory landed on the satellite and used the plausible balance provided to launch himself towards two higher leveled Akuma, shaped as a clock-face and a toy doll, respectively. He grabbed the one shaped as a clock-face and immediately smashed his fist into it, causing it to plummet to the ground while he turned his attention to the next one.

* * *

The demon growled as it fell, dazed by the attack enough to being paralyzed from even attempting to slow its landing. Not that it could, either way, _My form is a damn clock!_, to put it in its words when it transformed to the delight of the other Akuma. Its temper was now raging, itself trying to figure out how to get revenge. _I'll show that little bastard! I'll stay behind him, and when he turns his back, I'll show h- !_ Its thoughts went completely blank before they were finished, its mouth a-gape. It was no longer falling, but it never hit the ground either. Realization dawned in its last moments of its demonized life, realizing that it was impaled right through the center of itself.

* * *

Joseph was breathing heavily; sweat dropping down his forehead as he looked upon what he had done above himself. He had lived as a scoundrel, a bastard child even, in the streets of Italy. Even then, he never once, never _at all_ suspected he would actually kill someone or something, even if for a righteous cause. As the beast above him gasped in shock, Joseph regained his swift but permeable fortitude and flicked the large sword. Off came the demon, flying off the blade as if a disk toy a child would use, even though itself was nearly five times bigger then Joseph downright. The Akuma itself is destroyed, the soul inside released by the Innocence in the sword. Joseph stepped forward, resting the blade in the grass that rugged the courtyard, looking up to the sky to see the shadows moving among the stars. He noticed, even though he lacked any intuitive nature at all, that it seemed that when one shadow moved, a star would disappear by itself. It sort of scared Joseph for some reason, since before now he barely knew of anything besides birds being in the sky; but now, right above him, were the demons in the sky! Krory, a vampire, the Akuma, demons beyond the meaning of the word. _E' praticamente un incubo... __'It's almost like a nightmare…_' Joseph thought.

* * *

With all this idle-minded miniature thoughts coming from Joseph's mind, he nary noticed behind him an Akuma had been watching all this time, hanging on the wall in its form of an imp from childish tails, with spikes and even deformed little wings hugging its side. Itself also advanced, but not nearly as foolhardy as its brethren, it had come prepared with its own chunk of the pack. With it, it carried a small group of seven unevolved Akuma which gave no presence other then taking up space around it. The evolved Akuma raised its hand, gathering attention. "Alright, here's what I'll do. I'll strike at the twerp head-on. He looks like a small little bastard, so he'll be easy as anything to beat. After I take care of him, we'll go inside and secure the Innocence for the Earl. Got it?" The lower levels merely groaned a small response to it, causing the leader to sigh. _I can hardly believe I was one of these damn zombies once. How could anyone, especially the _Earl_, put up with such lethargic soldiers?_

The Akuma put its hand on the inside of the wall, itself hanging from the outside and the lower leveled Akuma floating next to it. Using the wall as if a sling-shot, the Akuma used both hands to sling itself at Joseph, pulling its two gigantic weapons from the holster in its back as it cut through the air to the distracted Exorcist.

* * *

Joseph watched on in amazement of the spectacle, believing all the Akuma were preoccupied or were subsequently destroyed by Arystar. When the Akuma fell back even _further_ to the darkness of the skies, farther away from Arystar then before, he finally fell down to the planet after hopping from Akuma to Akuma, even using the momentum and surface of the close-ranger fighters to keep him in the air. Landing with a large thud on the roof of the keep, Arystar allowed himself to catch his breath. The Exorcist looked at his flasks, with two remaining out of three. He counted how many he destroyed, ten, adding to the one Joseph helped destroy, eleven. _So if we've destroyed eleven, and there were about thirty to begin with…_ He quickly looked throughout the air, seeing only about four level two Akuma and around six level one Akuma. Arystar began to feel uneasy, looking back down to Joseph for visual support. What he saw made his heart skip, and he yelled out in warning, "Joseph! Look out!"

* * *

Joseph heard the warning, although he was too far away to understand. Not that he had any time to, anyways. Before he could begin to comprehend what his fellow Exorcist said, he force of a mud slide slammed into the ground behind him and sent him flying off his feet through the air. His sword was forced into the ground by the impact, flinging its Invocator further. Joseph landed on his side, rolling for three broad times on the grass and dirt with the breath beaten out of him. He heard a sinister laugh above him, but while he could not dare raise his head from shock, he feared he knew what was coming to him.

The voice growled, "Get up, Exorcist." Joseph didn't respond to it. The beast waited for a few moments, then growled again, "Or would you rather die as a dog in the mud?" Joseph didn't understand a lot of the English spoken to him, but he recognized a few key words that pang back to his childhood: _die as a dog_. Fury overtook him, the barriers of limitation put up feebly in an attempt to keep order around others were shattered, causing Joseph to immediately run for his sword, which was about fifteen feet away. Joseph could feel the ground shake as the demon followed in suit, but he was far too deep into his temper now to even give a backwards notice.

With the Italian Exorcist is his sword now, which due to the special properties of Innocence he was able to pick up with most ease but strike as if as powerful as a grown man, and with the impish demon were two powerful maces that, to one most learned in Polish history, known as a pair of military-modified bulavas, which were each four feet in length and overwhelming in power and crush; obviously, this was this Akuma's special weapon, which it wielded with obvious expertise. The two opponents stared at each other, with the Akuma of the pack brought by the imp surrounding them in a large perimeter and the Akuma in the sky watching on in amusement, but also in relief that they had time to reorganize their attack against Arystar. Neither duelists moved, however. Even with the lust for what surely must be its last kill 'til it can transform once more for only the Earl's wishes, the Akuma stood still. Even with the tempered rage that was still circulating within him but almost lessening, Joseph Colombo did not move.

Their eyes meeting, the Akuma made the first move. The Akuma was fast, alright; in Joseph's eyes, it seemed to blur as it moved across the land in large strides. The first blow came from the Akuma's left mace, which Joseph blocked. The second came just as fast, but with the sword already preoccupied with the other mace, the right one managed to smash the awkwardly positioned hilt of the sword, narrowly missing Joseph's fingers.

Joseph's hands were shocked by the abrupt force that flowed through the hilt, causing him to step back twice from the demon. Having no control over most of his left hand temporarily, he kept his grip as best he could on the hilt and swung completely down in offense. The Akuma managed to dodge the sword easily, instead making its way around Joseph in an expert manner to engage him from his unguarded left. Joseph stepped backwards twice, bringing his still numb hands to bring his sword to block. Again they clashed, loud cracks breaking through the air.

On the top of the keep's tower, Krory watched with growing fear, for he knew that while that Akuma wasn't nearly as fast as Krory was, it was still an overwhelming experience for such a young Exorcist. Fearing the worst, Krory leaped off the tower to help his comrade. However, several Akuma recognized the impish Akuma's strategy as viable, so they went out of their way to help. Being intercepted by a sort of spotted octopus, which is known by some as a Greater Blue-ringed Octopus, primarily found in the Pacific. The rings on its entire body glowed with what seemed to be anger, but after two seconds of the glow intensifying that wish was too good to be true, for the light retreated into the body and let loose a burst of energy from the rings. Being stricken, Krory was pummeled mercilessly against the walls of the tower.

Gasping for air after the attack, Krory could only whisper his request, _Joseph, hold on, for just a little longer!_

_

* * *

_

Inside the keep meanwhile, Dairu and Aloisio had previously opened the door that was sealed shut, probably by the Knights Templar in a retreating manner, and entered. The room itself that was protected by the door was dark and seemed damp. There was only one window to the outside, but that was barred up as well with some plywood, although Dairu paid no mind as to whom had done it. Aloisio quickly grabbed a flashlight, as described before as merely a tube, and turned it on. Inside, there was a spectacle of art: paintings of saints of the Catholic faith, effigies in statue-form of some of the more famous Templar Grand Masters, wooden crosses with some having the sculpted body of the Messiah on them in crucifixion, and so much more. Against his own inner desire to stop and examine with beloved scrutiny the beautiful works of art, however, Dairu hastily went on to look through the work with no precision in detail other then looking for signs of the Innocence. He has remembered after a great deal of experience with other Exorcists and his friends that the Innocence could be "jewel" that was "encrusted" on another object, or in some cases the object itself. However, the problem was if the Innocence was encrusted inside a sealed object, the light emitted natural from the strange substance was unseeable, only making matters worse. And right now, just by telling from the howls of pain of unearthly demons outside, that matters were only heating up.

_When we entered the room…_Dairu begin to think to himself, _… we didn't see any light at all. Could the Innocence be inside something? A box? A package?_ He turned, trying to find Aloisio in the dark. He found the Finder, no pun intended in that statement, looking carefully but quickly as he was through the art on shelves made of wood, between paintings stacked on the floor and even behind them if they were mounted on the wall. Dairu called to his partner, "Aloisio, try looking for a box of some kind. Maybe it's hidden there!"

Aloisio nodded, but asked from afar, "Do you remember what Headquarters told you about the Innocence? How did they even know it was here, anyways?"

The Exorcist remembered back to the briefing, remembering that Komui explained this sort of process of finding Innocence to him.

* * *

Komui looked from one Exorcist to another to another, seeing the strange and unlikely trio of comrades. He continued on after his initial greeting to them, "You three will be sent to Portugal, specifically in Vila Nova de Barquinha. After endless studies of myths and legends of the local Knights Templar during the Reconquista, we have determined that they uncovered an Innocence of practically immense proportions while fighting the Moors in what is now Portugal." Komui took a deep breath to gain some holding on the words, and continued on, "During the Reconquista, the future King of Portugal Afonso Henriques stopped his troops for rest on July nineteenth, 1139. Whilst the Portuguese Christian Army rested after weeks of battle and hard travel, Afonso went out for a walk by himself on a trail to get away from the stench of his troops washing. While he was out, he claims he fell into a large hole that was nothing but sand; no grass or plants around it at all. After stumbling to get up from this hole, Afonso noticed something glittering in the sand. Picking it up, he discovered that it was a jewel that had obviously been lukewarm for some time. He was fascinated by this jewel, stating that it 'glowed with the holy power of Christ yet held the solidified form of diamond'."

Komui picked up his mug of coffee, and he sneaked a peak to judge how well the Exorcists were taking this in. Dairu and Krory were interested, definitely, but Joseph showed little understanding other then a few words, as shown by a disinterested gaze looking at Komui's desk, and occasionally to the map of the Iberian Peninsula he had up. Putting the mug down, he swallowed the last of the coffee in his mouth and continued, "Legend says he picked up the 'jewel' and, with help of his sword, picked himself out of the hole by stabbing it deeply into the ground, allowing him to get a grip. He took the crystal back to camp, where his troops were already getting ready for rest. So intrigued he was after walking the distance to camp while staring into the jewel that he ordered a local jeweler and craftsman to make him a pendant for it, but he did not ask for a complicated one due to the shortness of time he had in the area. Staying with the craftsman and jeweler overnight, he watched the jewel be given a sort of wooden pendant to hold it by the jeweler in conjunction with the craftsman, whom also went to create some sort of string or rope to make it into a necklace for the man. Pleased with the result, Afonso left both of them some money as a payment of gratitude and continued on with his army when they awoke. However, soon he began to notice something strange about the jewel. It glowed whenever he felt awry emotions like anger or upset, as if it were responding to him. He ignored these basically, too preoccupied with his troops and formations. However, soon his troops entered a momentous battle, known historically as the Battle of Ourique."

Komui sighed, and casually threw the file down. "While it is indisputable that the battle itself happened, there are many bizarre rumors and myths that surround it. For example, many sources detail that Saint James the Great intervened on the side of the Portuguese Army, while other sources state that Saint George was the one that intervened. So jumbled up this story has been that finally some Christians have jumped to the conclusion that Christ himself came to help the soldiers. However, after several years of repression by propaganda needs by the Church, our researchers have found out that it was not an actual Saint that rescued the army, but it was actually Afonso Henriques. The Portuguese Christian Army and the forces of the Andalusian Muslims of the Almoravids met in fierce combat on July 25, 1139. The battle raged back and forth until Afonso was driven away from his army, although they didn't give notice. Nearly seventy Andalusian Muslims chased him, off horse-back, through the fields of Ourique, all seeking the glory of killing the prince themselves. Afonso was on his last legs and running as fast as he could carry himself in his heavy armor, but he couldn't hope to escape. It says that once he lost his breath and was exhausted nearly to his limit, he turned on his pursuers to fight them to the death with his war-sword." Komui took another periodic sip of his coffee. "He was obviously no match for them all, let alone seventy soldiers. After a ferocious match between them, Afonso was near death with still sixty soldiers left standing with his army still fighting in the distance. As he was about to be finished off, Afonso's chest began to glow with what's described as a 'holy light', that enwrapped Afonso and seemed to confide with him. Taken off-guard at first, the soldier that was to be his executioner quickly tried to kill Afonso with his sword, but it's written in the legend that 'the hand of God came down to protect Afonso, transferring his armor to the defense that would suit a fortress, but with the lightness of a feather of merely the most whimsical bird.'. In short, the soldiers that weren't scared off by the light and stood to fight Afonso were all killed; their swords bouncing off his armor and arrows merely reflected to the ground. The Order wants you three to go to its last known location, which is told at the end of the legend to reside in a castle in Southern Portugal named 'Almourol Castle', as a fail-safe the Knights Templar created incase they were overrun." He let out a breath of relief, the story finally over.

Immediately, Dairu asked a follow-up question, "Do we have any schematics for this mission, of the castle?"

"Yes, they're right here, if you want to take a look at them." Komui took some aging, but still viable, parchment out of a pile on his desk, which Dairu took when offered by hand. "You'll have some time to look over these schematics, so try and plan accordingly for the mission. As far as we can tell, there have been no recent visitors or any events for Almourol, so you'll be in a free-zone to do as you'd like. However, please consider the fact that the castle is a land-mark, so try and _not_ to destroy it completely." He adjusted his glasses, "The last thing we need is the Portuguese government developing a vendetta against the Order. Anyways, you're all dismissed."

* * *

Dairu responded, "They followed a path of bread-crumbs, essentially. That's how they track down Innocences, most of the time. They compare legends…" He moved a painting out of the way to peak behind it, "… And compare them to real-life events. This process goes on and on, which is why, most of the time, the Departments are total wrecks with books and papers. They… 'try to correlate legend with actual scientific theories', to put it in the words of Science Director Reever Wenhamm. They look through book after book after book, day after day, looking for these strange events. If they can find a match in modern history, such as accidents or happenings, then they send a Finder to look over the event in the local areas, if he cannot find the Innocence alone. Then, if the story proves true or needs more investigating in a likely event of probability, they send a squad of Exorcists."

Afonso was scurrying through a box of jewels, examining each for some kind of glow to them. "So basically, shoot and try not to miss?" Hearing a reluctant sigh of approval from Dairu, Afonso grew a smirk on his face, victorious, "Knew it."

The search continued for another minute, until finally Dairu opened the only cabinet, it as big as two men. Fear began to rise out of him, muttering "Is it possible that the Innocence was taken already?..." He looked to Afonso, whom seemed to be more puzzled then actually concerned about the missing Innocence. With this Afonso began to shuffle, nearly dance around, the cabinet, his eyes comparing each side. He reached inside the cabinet and drew his fingers against the ancient wood. Finally, Dairu had to ask, "What in the world are you doing? Shouldn't we be looking downstairs for the Innocence?"

Afonso smiled again, like a sly fox, replying "Oh, but we don't _have_ to. Tell me: if you were in the possession of a powerful and frightful weapon like the Innocence, that should never see the dark of battle, would you simply place it out in front like all these worldly items here?"

Dairu raised an eyebrow in confusion, but went along. "No…"

Afonso pointed from his head to Dairus with a single finger, "And that's the trick." His left foot entered the dark cabinet carefully, and a thump was heard. Afonso put his hands to the upper corners of the cabinet, and pulled out. In his hands was a large plank of wood, and behind _that_ was a sudden release of light that overtook the shadows of the room in front of it, causing Dairu to put a hand in front of his closing eyes. The suit of armor was here! The legends were _true_! "Walla. The armor of Afonso Henriques himself; Innocence and all."

* * *

Outside, the battle was steadily reaching its climax. Joseph was barely defending and pushing the Akuma he was sparring with back, against the relentless and pounding blows it inflicted against his weapon. Krory was still tangling with the second-level Akuma, whom were more coordinated now that they didn't have to deal with more then one target. Krory, landing on the wall in a less then perfect fashion, snarled in frustration. _I'm running out of blood, fast._ He looked back to the pouches in his robe, and only saw one canteen left with Akuma blood inside. He cursed his bad luck, Joseph's bad luck, and everyone's bad-luck. The Akuma were fast, instead of charging in at random as per usual, they were trying to stall for time while keeping him divided from Joe. When it comes down to it, they needed help right now, but they had no idea where the rest of the team was.

Krory looked down, trying to catch his breath. In his mind, a fearful postulation occurred: _Could they… have been killed? Was this a trap all along?!_ He could only barely stop himself from moving to go inside the castle. Torn, his options were to stay here and almost certainly allow one of them to get seriously injured or even killed, or he was to abandon Joseph to go get Dairu. However, that too meant one of them was to die, for if he left, the Akuma would surely take advantage immediately and move in for the kill. His face was fading from red, and his time was running out. He looked down to Joseph, his heart throbbing in his chest, seeing that Joseph was now being pushed further back by what seemed to be an unstoppable assault of twists, turns and clashes. His hands twitched, and he grabbed the last flask.

* * *

Joseph now barely parried every blow, and the flaunts and taunts that the Akuma made were unmatched. And he realized, just now, he should have listened to Dairu and practiced more while at the Headquarters. In his mind, ragged from broken concentration and stressed from reliance on reflexes and speedy reactions, he made a promise to himself and to Dairu, that he would practice as long as possible, whenever possible if they got out of this mess. If. He heard the Akuma cackle in delight, and he swung down on it with a horizontal slash.

However, this was to be an error. The Akuma caught the blow with feet dug into the ground, knees bent and bulavas' crossed in a sort of X, with the giant sword rested on top. Joseph moved to re-step and move away, but as if the Akuma had known this was going to happen, it caught Joseph's sword in a sort of pincer that refused to give way. A wicked smile cracked upon the face of the demon, and it yelled while laughing triumphantly, "Now, you _die!_" It lifted its left bulava into the air behind it, and swung down. The hand stopped suddenly, and the Akuma grunted in surprise. Krory had appeared from out of nowhere, caught the bulava in the air and ripped it from the demon's hand, and landed behind. He swung around, and his left fist slammed into the demon's back, sending it flying from the battle into a wall. The other Akuma, some level twos still mounted on level ones, rushed in to attack the Exorcists.

"Quickly!" Krory yelled, and he threw the bulava at the lead Akuma in the charging group, knocking it off its stead with a sharp growl of pain. Krory grabbed Joseph by the scruff, the sword still in the boy's hand, and ran towards the castle entrance. The Akuma followed, albeit they were slowed down by shock that the Exorcist would have been able to actually hit one of them so accurately at a distance like so. Krory had them in the back of his mind, his breathing becoming sharper and sharper as they fled. He looked passively at his left arm, seeing that there were sort of pentacles starting to show on his wrist and gaining color to his upper arm and hand. _Dammit!_ He growled in his mind, _With my body being strained like this, my Innocence can't properly break down continuous amounts of the poison!_ They heard shots fire behind them as they entered the castle's door, with only rocks flying behind them as they escaped into the darkness. However, with only their senses to guide them in this total blackness, and no moonlight to help, they couldn't help but run into Dairu and Afonso as both groups turned the corner.

Both struck back, they landed on their bottoms with surprised yelps. Krory's eyes adjusted all of a sudden, seeing that Dairu was holding a lit torch in his left hand to be able to illuminate through the dark halls. Afonso was already picking himself up, with him he brought Dairu and Krory. Joseph was still in Krory's right arm, dazed from the force of the flight they took. Dairu looked down the way that Krory came from, seeing the light of the moon in the courtyard. He could see distant hints of rubble, albeit he was too far to be sure. "What's left?"

Krory answered, "We managed to destroy at least twelve Akuma in all, but there's still a varied number of eighteen left." He held up his canteen, dropping it posthumously to the floor, "I'm out of Akuma blood on hand, and my Innocence can't keep up with the amounts I keep taking in." He stretched out his arm to pull back the sleeve, revealing the small, fade pentagrams on his arms. "You'd better get some ideas, because we're running out of time."

Dairu, shocked as well as concerned by the sight of pentagrams, rubbed the temple of his forehead. He looked from each Exorcist to the next, and finally to Aloisio. He hummed slightly, and looked back to them. A serious glare upon his face, he asked, "Can you all run?"

* * *

The remaining Akuma gathered in the air above the castle, as before with the level ones being the steeds. A monkey-like Akuma called from a few feet away to another Akuma, designed as a hat, "Do we have another plan?"

The hat snickered, and replied, "I don't know, what does the leader say about this?"

The two Akuma broke out laughing hysterically, while back on the ground the impish Akuma rose from the rubble of the wall he destroyed. He growled, rubbing off Akuma blood from his chin. "That _bastard_…" He looked up the others, yelling, "Why aren't you going in after them?!"

The monkey Akuma jubilantly called down, nearly breaking out in laughter again, "Well, _sir_, maybe you should think of another brilliant plan to get us out of this!" The two roared in laughter again, in hysterics at their partner's embarrassment.

The impish demon on the ground felt his eye twitch, and he screamed at the top of his voice, "Shut the fuck up, you dumb pieces of shit! Or, so may the Earl help me, I'll kill both of you right now!" It grabbed the bulava by it side, the one that it held onto when it was sent flying, and stormed forward in a march. The imp approached the fallen Akuma that led the charge, seeing it still alive with the imp's bulava still lodged inside a gushing wound in its chest cavity.

The Akuma reached up weakly, trying to grab onto the imp's ankle. "H… help me."

The imp, looking down with scornful eyes, grabbed the hilt of the bulava and ripped it clean out of the gigantic wound. In a fit of anger, the imp slammed its re-acquired bulava directly into the wounded Akuma's skull. The blow sent a wave of blood and fragmented inner Akuma skull like a small explosion, splattering across the imp's body and decorating its bulava in red. Growling, with hatred in its eyes, "I will hunt you both down, and I will fucking_ destroy you_ for that trick!"

* * *

"Steady…" Dairu said calmly. Krory's feet slid down, sweat dropping from his forehead in concentration. Dairu held his hand up, looking outside to the courtyard. Aloisio held for dear life onto the Romanian man's back, and on _his_ back was the ever-ready Joseph, whom had his Innocence held tight like a lance. Dairu was to hoof it, unfortunately. With almost a sense of regret of the action, he let his arm fall. "Go!"

Krory released the tension in his legs, rocketing himself out into the colder air of the night. Immediately, he and his entourage were met with volley after volley of Akuma bullets, falling from the sky like rain and smashing into the stones of the yard. With fragments falling onto his face, Krory kept on running. The yard's distance was very small, so it only took a few seconds to reach the wall.

Dairu kept a steady eye from the door, muttering "Now, here's the hard part for them…" He ran out of the keep, taking advantage of the Akuma's distraction with Krory.

* * *

Krory's legs bounded for the wall until he stopped directly in front of it. Jumping to place right in front of the wall, he used his momentum to launch once more into the air, but not straight into it, but _right over the wall._ With the feeling of weightlessness and uncertainty all around him, Krory could only hope that Dairu thought this through completely. With that, the earth beckoned him downwards, and himself unable to resist, he fell back down with greater speed. He landed after the few seconds from the leap into the air, on the other side of the Tagus River, on both his legs. Aloisio let out an "Umph!" from the harsh force, and Joseph yelped in pain from Aloisio's head hitting his jaw. Krory felt their pain; his legs were howling in protest from the stern ground they fell on.

Behind them, they heard not another volley of bullets, but… a primal-sort of yell. As the three turned to face this yell, it grew louder until the shadow emitting the yell finally descended unto them. A mace swiped at Krory's face, narrowly dodged. Aloisio and Joseph both lost their grip from the moving Krory was doing, dropping to the dirt behind him. Another mace was swung to attack Krory's hip, and he barely caught that one with his hand. The mace's owner grunted, struggling against the Exorcist's grip. Krory's finally adjusted to the sudden speed, seeing the attacker's familiar, demonized face. "You…!" Arystar whispered, his eyes meeting with the imp's.

The imp cackled, hissing "You're mine now, you filthy human." The imp let go of the bulava in its right hand, allowing the hand to grab onto Krory's wrist, whose hand was holding the bulava in place. The Exorcist gasped in surprise, trying to wrench free. The imp retaliated with a trying head-butt to Krory, which he received with its full blunt.

The strangest and most dizzying of colors and ultimate blackness flashed before Krory's eyes, morphing the world into a sort of painting that had no meaning but confusion. His grip failed on the right bulava, leaving him dangling by the imp's grip.

The imp raised its left bulava in what seemed the third time this night, roarng "_Now die_!" and swung downwards to its captured prey. The imp's mouth nearly dropped with saliva, thrill of the kill it was about to make, but stopped with a jolt of surprising origin. Looking behind its back, the imp saw something peculiar: _a chain and a sort of object_ wrapped around the bulava. Tugging on the bulava to find the source of the chain, the imp saw that nearly fifty feet away was another Exorcist, in the same red and black uniform, holding onto his arm and the weapon on it for dear life.

The tanned young man, drenched in water, shouted in an unusual vigor of what seems to be a usually calm person, "Get away from him, right this instant! I will be your opponent in place!"

The imp blinked for a moment in surprise, then let out a terrible laugh. The other Akuma joined in, seeing and hearing everything that just happened. The imp slowed it's laughing, saying "You're just a boy! If this one couldn't handle me alone, how do you think _you_ could stand a chance to me?" Looking around slightly, a victorious grin was implanted on its face, "Hell, even that other runt with the giant sword was no match for me." The Exorcist merely stood his ground, not responding at all to the imp's jeers. The imp licked its lips, stating "You know, I have to wonder about one thing: We didn't find any sort of Innocence around here, but we were told for sure that one would be here. However, all we found was you." The grin deepened like a sort of accusation of guilt, continuing, "Did you find it, perhaps? Perhaps…" The imp's free-hand grabbed hold of the chain immobilizing his weapon, "… you took it."

The tanned boy simply blinked, but it was obvious that under this sort of agitated exterior, there was a tang of worry.

* * *

Dairu knows that he isn't much of a strong person, physically. He barely did any sort of muscular training while in his home in Ottoman Palestine, instead being forced to focus on basic but crude military strategy and sword-play. He didn't do any at all in Berlin, instead focusing by choice on the arts, linguistics and history. Now, being faced with a giant imp that was twice his size and obviously proficient in its weapons wasn't exactly the problem. The _problem_ was that he was attached to _one of its weapons_. Reflecting for a second as the imp spoke, _Perhaps this wasn't the best of ideas…_He had to keep a cool exterior, though, for as long as possible. Even an errant twitch of his face, a small look of his eyes could set off these demons, and he knew it well from stories passed by his fellow Exorcists.

The imp spoke in a more sinister tone then before, and Dairu tuned in finely to the next sentence, "We didn't find any sort of Innocence around here, but we were told for sure that one would be here. However, all we found was you. Did you find it, perhaps? Perhaps…" The imp slowed its sentence, and Dairu felt the hand it placed on the chain. The grip was strong, as he had feared. However, his fears of the strength of the demon's grip were nothing in comparison to what he felt after the demon broke the small silence, "… you took it."

Dairu's heart skipped, and sweat began to form on the pores on his head. _This is bad; this is very, __**very**__ bad._ Dairu moved his hand to the holster on his pants' leg. He thumbed the switch inside his weapon carefully, thinking in anxiety and worry. _If he discovers that Joseph has the Innocence…_ He blinked again, changing his minds' gears. _No! I have to stall for him as long as possible!_ Licking his lips, he responded, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

The imp cackled in its own response to the response to its question. Its arm then swung and pulled the chain, causing Dairu to lose his footing to the strength of the chain. With little time and little of a position to respond in, Dairu pulled the blade from his leg pocket and pressed the button in his Innocence. The distance between the two shrank until they were so close to each other that they could smell each others' despised breathes. With a sickening hiss of discovery and taunt, the imp said "Well now, human… there's me, you, and that other Exorcist over there. You had two others with you before, if I recall. Does one of them have the Innocence?"

Using every single fiber of personal power between his mind and his face, he kept his gaze unflinching and resolved to nothingness. He dug his feet into the ground instead, his blade positioned toward the imp's lower, unprotected torso and the chain still attached to the bulava.

However, these attempts were far too much in vain as the imp spoke again, in realization, "Ah, so one of them_ does_, huh? And you're just trying to stall for time, even though you're far too weak to handle anything stronger then a first level Akuma?"

Dairu's eyes buldged, _Shit!_ He cursed in anger in his mind. "How…" Dairu whispered fiercely, keeping the blade strongly in hand and the bulava positioned away with rigorous intent.

The imp Akuma cackled in light of his intellectual victory, sliding its left foot over the dirt of the fertile ground near the river. The sinister grin let loose a sly retort, "You humans are so easy to read, don't you know? Always keeping your emotions caged incase you've got something to hide, and when it's revealed, you all always act so surprised." It took its eyes off of Dairu, looking to the horde of Akuma behind it that were spectating the event. "Go into the forest! You'll find two humans along with the Innocence. One of them is an Exorcist," The imp winked in play, "but he isn't a very good one at all."

The Akuma raised a cheer of blood-thirst, some laughing insanely. The first leveled simply broke formation to do as what their apparent leader ordered them to.

Dairu screamed, "No!" and pulled the Akuma's bulava past his body. The imp was pulled forward by the sudden leap of strength Dairu called upon with his emotions infuriated, and lost its footing in the somewhat muddy ground. The knife met the imp's exposed lower torso, slicing straight through its outer non-armored shell. The imp gasped in pain, grabbing Dairu's arm. There they were, stuck in a sort of dance of a grotesque dance by evisceration, the Akuma's face frozen with shock while Dairu tried to push the knife deeper inside.

The Akuma coughed downwards, the dark black-purple blood splattering into the dirt. The imps' eyes blinked, snapping out of the temporary shock. With blood dripping down the blade in small drops, the wound wasn't so much of a fatal wound, but more like a glancing blow. The Akuma's voiced cracked in annoyance, "You _bastard_…! Do you think you can defeat _me_ with that, that little _butter knife_?!" The imps' voice rose as it cracked with pain, coming to a roar that nearly split Dairu's ears open. The imp mimicked what Dairu did to stab it and nearly pulled his right arm out of its socket. With the knife still in its body, the imp slammed its left knee directly into Dairu's chin, pulling on his arm, and began to struggle to free its bulava from the Innocence's chain.

* * *

Joseph and Aloisio ran as fast as they could through the Iberian forest, passing Portuguese Oak trees in abundance. Their boots smacked the ground like pounding fists of leather as they ran, and their hearts beated much faster than that. Through the woods they ran, with Aloisio taking point and Joseph following quickly behind with a sort of metal breast-plate in his arms. Aloisio turned his head, seeing no one behind them. However, he saw the strained look on Joseph's face, already reddened from lack of breath. Knowing what would happen next, Aloisio quickly grabbed Joseph's arm, catching him before he fell to the ground in exhaustion. Aloisio, himself Portuguese, could not understand Joseph's whispers in Italian, so he had to resort to trying to resolve him in English. "Joseph, listen to me." His other hand grabbed the boy's shoulder, trying to gather his attention, "We need to keep going. Dairu said he was going to get Krory out of there somehow, so we need to trust him."

Joseph murmed, "Dairu…" while trying to gather the strength to move again. His legs were weary, and his arms were still in pain from the blows he had to endure from the duel he had with the level two Akuma he foolishly took on. His hands were wrapped around the breastplate as if his arms had become cast-iron and bolted, his Innocence back in its deactivated form to loosen the weight he had to carry.

Aloisio took the breastplate from Joseph's hands, and knelt down. "Get on my back; I'll get us to the meeting-point faster this way."

Joseph didn't move in the slightest, blinking in a state of lost-thought; not even speaking in response.

Aloisio reached back and squeezed Joseph's shoulder, getting the small boy's attention. He looked deep into the boys eyes, saying "Joseph, I know you can hardly understand me, but I have to ask you, as an Exorcist of the Black Order and as a fellow being: Please trust me." Joseph blinked in surprise, taken-aback. Finally, the boy nodded out of his shell-shock, and stood up in full. Kneeling down, he felt the weight of Joseph descend on his back, and hugged the breast plate to his chest to protect it equally.

As his left foot was about to hit the ground to begin the run again, an explosion comparable to that of a large cannon flowered behind him. With the dirt that splattered into the air, Aloisio and his charges were sent about ten feet through the air to a rough landing on the ground. In the trees above, several intimidating shapes clouded the skies, on which demons with eyes seeming to glow sat. Then, hideous cackles of near-perverted pleasure rang from every direction, with demons slowly falling from the trees all around them like spiders from webs of wood and trunk. Any human being would feel a sense of eeriness and overwhelming fear, and Aloisio and Joseph just happened to be those two human beings. Aloisio stepped back, but stepped back into place once more when he realized that no matter _where_ he would back up, he would face death. And that, he thought to himself, no healthy human being should ever be thinking: death at every move, no matter what you do. On his back, he felt Joseph's grip slipping slightly, but gave it no mind.

A star-shaped Akuma learched forward, a manic and unbelievably evil face it had. "So, he was right after all! There's the Innocence, right in that human's hands!" It pointed its left edge like a hand right towards Aloisio, where he kept the breastplate safely clenched to his chest. "I'm getting it first!" It squealed with glee, moving menacingly forward as it floated.

A gorilla-sort-of-shaped Akuma slammed its large fists down in a sort of primal rage, protesting with a roar of challenge, "Why should _you_ get the Innocence?! _I_ should get it; I haven't gotten to fight this whole damn mission! All _I_ got to do was just jump around and keep that Exorcist distracted!" This lured more protests and challenges from the other level two demons, showing the draw-backs of intelligence, even controlled. The demon's encirclement began to break up as they Akuma lost their ability to focus.

Aloisio, daftly taking his chances, bolted immediately through the nearest opening and ran to dangerous freedom, leaving behind a group that was divided amongst itself in which the nightmarish encirclement could not stand.

* * *

Once again, the Finder was running for his life. His boots slapped the ground once more in its hardened beat, and he was weighed down by his two charges. His training as a Finder for Portugal told him that the forests were not nearly as large as others, so if he kept running he would find an exit to this cursed maze of haze and moonlight. However, he began to feel Joseph's hand tugging at the back of his hair, almost like a rider telling his horse to stop. Surprised but always diligent, Aloisio slowed to a stop.

* * *

Joseph had finally come fully out of shock of the events that happened around him, out of the fact that they had no choice but to leave what surmounted to practically his own brother behind. He knew of the stories of the ferocity and hellishness of the Akuma, but nothing he could have heard of could have ever prepared him for _the actual thing_. He just wasn't like that, as he knew with shame. He acted tough and spoke with a tone normally as sharp as a knife, but he knew he wasn't nearly as sharp as one or nearly as tough as he acted. What _really_ filled him with shame was that he was being carried like an injured boy, away from his friends and abandoning the mission like cowardly dogs in the face of bigger, tougher dogs. But his body wouldn't respond, because he just couldn't believe he was doing this in the first place. He just couldn't. But then, Aloisio helped drag him a little bit out of his shock by telling him something that made him focus. He couldn't understand much, but he understood that he was talking about Dairu and what he did to help Krory and let them escape. Joseph began to think to himself that perhaps it was too late; perhaps his friend was dead already. His mind yelled back with a defiant denial, causing his body to once again spring to action.

With a tug of Aloisio's brown hair in his hand, he got the Finder to stop running to listen, so he said, "Dobbiamo tornare da Dairu e Krory! Non li lascerò indietro!" _We need to go back to Dairu and Krory! I won't leave him behind!_

Aloisio raised his eyebrows, confused. He stammered, "I- I'm sorry, but I don't understand Italian."

Knowing what Aloisio just said since he has heard it so many times before, Joseph gave an aggravated sigh of disbelief. He pointed his finger at the ground, saying with impact, "Lasciami andare! Lasciami! Ora!" _Let me down. Down!_ He pointed again, his arm practically waving from the urgency he did it. With hesitancy, Aloisio followed the boy's lead and let him down to the ground from his back. With the universal motion of agreement of nodding, Joseph continued on to point towards the way they went, his arm an extension of his soul.

Aloisio looked the way he went, his eyes bulged. "You want to go back _that_ way?! Why?!"

Joseph looked back into his eyes, determined. ""Dobbiamo prendere Dairu e Krory!" _We need to get Dairu and Krory!_Getting the hang of trying to get his point around with Aloisio, he repeated just their names, "Dairu and Krory" slowly, making Aloisio look behind him, away from Joseph, covering his mouth in exasperated thinking.

He turned back after a moment of thinking and crouched down so he could talk face-to-face with Joseph, holding his shoulders to look him too in the eyes directly. Aloisio was surprised to see that the empty eyes he saw before were gone, replaced with eyes filled with complete determination. The crickets in the distance chirped and sang, and with their rhythm he realized that despite everything that they would face, every argument he would bring up, every obstacle they would face, that Joseph would never, _ever_ abandon Dairu, and now Krory. Sighing in regret of what he is about to do, he followed the rules of ranks in the Order and followed the Exorcist's request. As he knelt down, he muttered absent-mindedly, "Well, 'Sir Exorcist', I have a feeling I am going to regret this for the rest of my life…"

* * *

The Akuma were still squabbling like a mad-house of debaters, going back and forth with their own accounts of what happened or what _should_ happen, or even their own battles-stories, albeit exaggerated.

However, one Akuma among them was simply standing there among them, befuddled about what it just saw. "Did the Exorcist just get away with the Innocence…?" It muttered, and twisted its head in disbelief and looked in disbelief at its partners. The level ones were floating as stupidly as ever and the level two were arguing, as the lion-formed Akuma could only summarize as, a bunch of dipshits. Knowing it couldn't take on the Exorcist by itself, the lion Akuma let in an enormous breath and let out a thunderous roar into the forest, aimed at the group around it.

All the demons were rattled by this, turning to their counter-part with angered and confused glares. One yelled, "What the _hell_ was that for?!" with its voice nearly breaking from anger.

The lion Akuma pointed its clawed hand toward the other end of the forest in the distance, screaming, "The Exorcist just ran off with the Innocence, you morons!" The rest of the Akuma were taken aback, but before one could start another blaming fight, the lion quickly used what wit it was granted, and used reverse-psychology as it continued on to growl, "I don't know about you all, but I am going to get that Innocence for the Earl myself!"

The other Akuma were outraged now, and the star-shaped Akuma began to float higher in the air, probably from its emotional state. It shouted out, "Like hell you will! That glory is mine!" And it flew off ahead of them. The rest followed, yelling their own profanity-laced instigations as they began to hunt for the Exorcist once more with the ever-more stoic level ones in tow, albeit slowly like floating slabs of metal.

The star cackled maniacally, its eyes glowing with enormous greed. _I'll get there first, no doubt! I'm the fastest of all these losers!_ The star was moving so fast, however, that it failed to notice its target _right below it._ The targets failed to notice the star as well, both going their separate ways.

* * *

**End of chapter nineteen. This story will be picked up in chapter twenty-one due to it's incredible length. However, in twenty, we will be focusing on Allen, Lenalee and Yoshimata's mission in Saint Petersburg, Russia.**


	22. Chapter 20

**This takes place several unspecific days after everyone leaves at the train station. Most likely two to three.**

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* * *

**

In Saint Petersburg, most things were evolving. The culture of the city had taken a more Western tone, as if calling back to its founder and namesake Peter the Great. It was an industrial hub with much to offer the world. It was a center of politics in Europe, and one of the biggest cities in Europe in business, population and power. The city itself was a lively one, with traders and men of occupations alike comingling amongst both themselves and the common people of the street and small rubles. On Voznesensky Prospekt, the Angleterre Hotel chambered the usual bunch of travelers: Swedish merchants, Norwegian and Finnish tourists, and even a few Estonians to the owner's astonishment. Vladevir Deristrokinia owned and managed the hotel, and he was growing old at age fifty two. That being said, Vladevir had the strangest catalogue in his memory of every sort of person that entered his hotel, based solely on what their race was. That's just how he remembered them; he couldn't actually remember their names or occupations for the life of him.

Vladevir was stirring his evening soup, filled to the brim with vegetables due to a successful flow of money from tourists and men of business who stayed at his hotel in the last few months. He kept his eyes on the street, watching casually on his break the people walking by his humble abode on their ways. However, one in the crowd caught his eyes as they broke the line of passing people and carriages to approach the hotel. _Oh boy…_the Russian thought to himself, and he straightened his back to impose himself better. The person approaching the store was a local police-officer in his mandatory day-time uniform of a completely black, buttoned-down jacket with a sort of ceremonial pants that was covered by an officer's skirt, with a sword holstered at his side. Vladevir himself knows that, outside of Russia, there was almost rarely any sort of violent weaponry allowed among the police-forces of Europe. _That's the difference between us, the Russians, against them…_ Vladevir mused; _Our police like to be safe, then sorry._

The officer entered the hotel through the front door, smiling through his growing, brown beard. "Good day, Vladevir. How're you this evening?"

Vladevir shrugged in response, stating blandly, "The day's like any other one, Mikhail."

Mikhail gave a hearty laugh in response, taking off his wool papakhi and putting it in front of his chest in his hands. "So, Vladevir, what do we have today? The usual?"

_He's a god damn creature of habit…_ Vladevir sighed. _He's been asking me the same thing for the last month or so, ever since he was transferred from the Caucasus._ He continued to dip into his soup, responding, "Mostly, yes." Seeing Mikhail raise a questioning eyebrow, Vladevir explained. "I'm as surprised as you are; this place isn't very famous beyond the usual Scandinavians. I'm lucky even to attract Estonians and Lithuanians from across the gulf most of the time, and even then they don't stay for long." He looked up from his soup for the first time, meeting Mikhail's eyes. "However… today, I actually have a Western guest."

Mikhail's interest was peeked. "From the West?" He quickly grabbed a seat, sitting opposite the hotel owner. "What country is he from?" He asked with a hushed voice, anticipation written over his face.

"He just says he's from Britain. He has white hair, but he doesn't sound a day over sixteen, and he has some sort of…" his eyebrow moved up, trying to figure out how to properly explain this man. Finding the words, "Some sort of scar going down his face, right near his eye. However, it's not a sort of scar either you or I have ever seen in our lives, and we have seen our fair-share of scars."

Mikhail licked his lips, looking to the windows that lined the lobby of the hotel as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Does he have anyone else with him?"

Vladiver nodded, putting down his spoon and rubbing his hands by instinct. "He's travelling with a peculiar sort of group; one boy and one girl. They're both Asian, but they claim that they're both from the same sort of group he's with. Kind of a peculiar group, once you think about it: they all were wearing black and red-trimmed uniforms that were decorated with crosses on them, and to make the matter even _more_ strange, they were all probably just in their teens."

"Crosses? Are they from some sort of religious group or something? Why'd they be out here?" Mikhail inquired.

"They didn't tell me, that's for sure. I asked them myself, but one of them made up some sort of excuse about 'being here for the sights', but I don't believe that one bit. They looked too official to be here for leisure, and it looked like they were looking for something."

Mikhail coughed, clearing his throat, and then asked, "Have they asked for anything so far, like directions or any sort of transportation?"

Vladevir was surprised by the question, and answered cautiously, "Yes… they claimed that they were looking for the Kazan on Nevsky Prospekt. They didn't say why, though; they were acting shift when I asked them myself." He stopped rubbing his hands, his eyebrow rising suspiciously as he pressed the issue, "Why do you ask? Are they fugitives, enemies of Tsar Nicholas or something to that sort?"

Mikhail looked behind him for a quick second, looking into the street, and turned back to Vladevir and stood up from his chair, "No, no. I- erm, just need to talk to them. Official business." Vladevir could see that Mikhail was growing anxious, seeing how he was starting to sweat a little as he spoke, his hand drumming the counter. "Which room are they, exactly?"

Vladevir reached under the counter, taking out the hotel's reservation booklet. He flipped through the various names, muttering to himself the names he saw, until he reached the names and their room number. "Room forty-four." Mikhail finally left him, he went back to his soup. However, in the back of his mind, he wondered to himself what those mysterious three teens could have possibly done to get the attention of the local police. He shrugged it off as just another happenstance of the world, since it was little to doubtful that there was something troubling to have to do with those strange kids and the government. _At least I got that pest out of my hair._ He sipped the soup in his spoon with complete satisfaction.

* * *

Lenalee was looking out the window of their room, waiting patiently for Allen to return. She was beginning to worry that he would get lost in the city, but she knew that if he at least kept Timcanpy with him, he'd be able to find his way back. Yoshimata was sound asleep in his bed, despite resting on the entire way by both trains they took. She began to twirl her left pony-tail, subconsciously growing both bored and wary of waiting; however, she continued to wait as planned.

* * *

Several hours earlier, they formed a make-shift plan on how to be able to get to the supposed Innocence. "Here's what we should do: we'll wait for night-fall, and then take to the streets to search the area surrounding the Kazan and eventually the Kazan itself." Yoshimata suggested, adding to the discussion.

The three Exorcists were on their way from Vilnius to Saint Petersburg, going on a rickety but still sound Russian train. They boarded with several immigrants and workers looking for jobs, or to continue the ones they already have, in the capital of the Empire. The immigrants were mostly mixed-groups of Litvins whom were from the lower class of society. Some were farmers; some seemed to be factory workers. However, they all shared the same glint in their eyes that there was hope to be found somewhere, even if it took them to the summit of the very empire that seemed to intentionally oppress them. Allen rubbed his chin, thinking about Yoshimata's input. He lifted his eyebrow, looking the plan over and over again in his mind. He shrugged, "I don't see much of a problem with it, personally. But I have a question that's been bugging me: Why can't we just have a couple of Finders help us from a local detachment?"

Lenalee shook her head, "We can't, Allen. Or rather, it's that there _are_ no detachments where we're going." Seeing Allen further perplexed, she continued to explain. "The Russian Empire is primarily Orthodox. The mere fact that the Black Order is placed in what is widely considered to be an Anglican-dominated land, and is run by the Catholic Church disqualifies the opportunity of a Finder detachment being placed here. Several hundred years ago, the first attempt was made to establish a secure presence in Russia by the Black Order, but the Tsar refused on accounts of suspecting the Western powers of trying to undermine his authority."

Allen took a bite out of a bagel that was being sold on a cart that shambled through the old train, mumbling "That sounds kind of paranoid…"

Shrugging, Lenalee responded, "The Tsars were always suspicious of the Black Order's attempts to establish a garrison in Russia. And even the reformists Tsars were cautious before beginning negotiations, but even those broke down after deliberations floundered. Since Tsar Peter I, we have been given specific orders to ride legally on the trains to and from Russia, and to take up normal residence so that we don't," She coughed, obviously disturbed by the logic, "Bother the masses."

Allen's face soon slumped from neutral to a small frown, commenting that "It makes us sound like we're a bunch of dangerous people!"

Yoshimata looked out the window, "I've been through parts of the Russian Empire before, and I can say that the state of the peasants is slowly declining. Even in history books I've found in the libraries, the conditions for the lower classes of the society to be routinely dismal and ripe for revolutions." His eyes squinted as he starred out at the passing fields colored with green fields sandwiching grey skies and colorless rain, "For a society to be held together by bayonets and spilt blood, it's obvious they'd be so cautious with the Black Order. They fear everyone and every_thing_ that has the position and the time to weaken the Russian imperial order, and rightfully so. It'll take but a few sparks…" He mumbled off into nothing, his eyes closing finally.

Allen and Lenalee were surprised by the sudden outburst of information from him, definitely not expecting it from Yoshimata considering his limited background. Curiosity moved Allen's hand to touch his shoulder to ask him personally how he figured out the reason by himself, but when he connected with him he was shocked: he was _asleep._ "He just fell asleep!" He muttered in awe and shock, looking to Lenalee whom was as surprised.

She looked at Yoshimata, "We barely know anything about him, but he's already full of surprises. But the real question I'd like to answer is how and where he learned to fall asleep like that." Allen looked befuddled, waiting for her to explain what she said. Obliging, "The ability to just fall asleep on a dot is not a naturally given ability within its own; it needs to be taught before it can be used, and at then it is known historically as a way for travelling warriors to quickly rest instead of tossing and turning while waiting for a battle or for, say, an enemy to pass by." Breathing, she summarized, "It's not just a survival technique, but a _battle-strategy._"

Finally understanding what she meant, Allen himself joined her in the wonderment of who exactly this person that lay asleep really was.

* * *

Lenalee heard a knock at the door, causing her to slightly jump in surprise. The knock came again in a few mere seconds, Lenalee herself practically at the door. She opened the peephole door, meeting the solemn and seemingly erratic eyes of an older Russian man. He spoke in accented English while removing a wallet from his coat's inner-pocket, "I am Officer Mikhail Viacheslav of the local police force of Saint Peterburg." He coughed, his facial expression growing increasingly uneasy. "I was specifically assigned to be your escort to the Kazan. I ask for me to come in."

Lenalee squinted suspiciously at the badge, looking over the credentials that were obviously specially written for the Exorcists from Russian to English. Finally she decided that he wasn't lying, seeing that every detail was in order and signed with a special mark of approval by another officer of the government. She closed the peephole and unlocked the door, quickly bringing it open. "Please, come in," She said both graciously and at the same time with annoyance of the necessity of an 'escort'. The lumbering man's boots seemed to thunder-strike on the wooden floor, bringing him inside the room. He was more than a foot taller then Lenalee, although seeming to be a bit younger than forty. "One of my friends is sleeping near the window. I'll go wake him up so we can get down to business."

When she turned around, however, Yoshimata was standing fully at the ready, his cane held firmly on the ground and an intent look in his eye. "I'm already awake." He stepped forward from the bed, coming face-to-face with the Russian officer.

Both were looking each other in the eye with mounting tension that seemed to weigh down the room. From Yoshimata's side of the room, a seemingly hard-standing and intrusive man of seemingly Eastern origins in Western garb. From Mikhail's side of the room, a large and muscular officer of a seemingly repressive regime in almost make-shift uniform. They were like two worlds meeting together, alien to each other in some ways but too familiar in the others. Yoshimata was the first to break the dozen seconds of silence.

He brought his left hand towards Mikhail at mid-torso, looking him in the eye still. He smiled wily, greeting him with, "Hello," He, without any apparent warning or cause, switched immediately to Russian as he continued the greeting. "I'm pleased to meet you, Mister Mikhail. I am, as explained, one of the operatives of this mission. You may know me as Yoshimata Hakitawa."

Caught off-guard by the young man's sudden and quite fluent Russian, Mikhail could barely help but return the warm smile handed to him. He spoke in broken English still, trying to keep the formality between them both. "It is good to meet someone from the West that speaks such good influence in my language. That being said, however, I would like to be starting your debriefing as soon as possible."

Lenalee interjected quickly, stating "We've still got another friend of ours out there. He said he was just stepping out for a few minutes, searching the local area."

That's where Mikhail's smile faded away. He cautiously asked, "Searching for _what_, exactly?" He fumbled with a button above his left pants pocket with his hand, continuing, "Who gave you this sort of permission to be able to walk around freely while being honored guests of Saint Petersburg?"

Lenalee's brow furred with irritation. "We don't need permission to be able to walk around a single block or even a single street in an entire city." She stepped forward menacingly, continuing to look him straight in the eyes, "And if you must know, he was searching for the quickest and easiest path to the Kazan Cathedral, thank you very much. We will investigate the strange happenings there, take care of any dangers that may present themselves, and then leave as soon as possible." Their gazes never broke as Lenalee took a breath. "Are we in an understanding now?"

_This… wasn't expected,_ was the only thing that crossed Mikhail's mind at that moment. In this year of nineteen-hundred, almost no woman had a voice in public matters, let alone in the East where the feelings of local culture were more for their olden times in history. While the West offered a little more autonomy for women in terms of occupations and what-not, both had the general agreement on how women were to be clothed: in covering dresses that were either layered or extended to cover their body from shoulders to knees. However, here right now, in a Russian hotel in the musty crown of the empire of Slavs was a woman in clothes of abominable design with a very, _very_ high skirt, long-legged boots and jacket made of black leather, red lace and a golden-marked insignia planted directly below her shoulder.

Needless to say that this woman is alien to Mikhail entirely, and he proceeded with the utmost caution in speaking to her. "This is not an order or rule from me; this comes from not only from my superiors, but from the Tsar. I am expected, and I will continue to be your escort." He straightened his back firmly, which was slouching in slack disbelief from Lenalee's controlled scolding. "You are in our country, and here we are the leaders and controllers. When we go to your countries or your churches or-" He looked around, obviously trying to phrase his sentence correctly while maintaining his own cool, "Where-ever you work, we will try our best to obey _your_ rules." He paraphrased her, stating "We are in agreement now, yes?"

The both continued to stare each other down, shifting the awkwardness from Yoshimata to Lenalee in a fine, smooth motion that a river would envy. Another knock came from the door, causing the stare-off to end as it was. Lenalee walked past Mikhail to the door, filled with burning emotional distaste as well as, secretly, bitter reside. When she opened the peephole door, she met a face that told those virulent emotions away, and gave birth to a smile. "Allen! You're finally back!" She opened the door for the cheery British boy, letting him in the room. Timcanpy was still nestled in his chest-pocket, remaining absolutely still so that it didn't cause for any attention.

Allen originally had a smile on his face from the moment the peep-door opened, and even before. To him, the streets of Saint Petersburg were fascinatingly different from the monotone and uniform ones of the German Empire, where they found Miranda; they were far more different than the ones in China, where the streets were alive and overflowing with emotions and exotically festive lights that seemed to practically hold you in their grasp! His smile faded to perplexity, when he noticed that a uniformed man was standing in the middle of the room. He looked to Lenalee, "Who's he?"

"He's a police officer assigned to us to act as an escort to the Kazan Cathedral." She stood by Allen, putting a hand on his shoulder with confidence. "However, I had to let him know that you were just going to find a path to there, right?" Her eyes shone with a prospect of personal victory, which already was admittedly dragging on too long for comfort.

With a submissive and embarrassed grin, he whispered "Actually, Lenalee, I couldn't find my way to there at all."

Surprised and unwitted, Lenalee turned back in shock. "W- Why couldn't you find it? We even bought a map for you!"

Allen rubbed the back of his head with his eyes closed in a smile, shrugging. "I'm sorry, Lenalee. This city is just too big for me to travel alone. Besides, all the street-names are in Russian, so after a minute or two of just walking around I found myself in a market-place far from where I was supposed to go." He looked to Mikhail, and suddenly realized that he forgot something. He offered his left hand to the Russian, giving him a warm and greeting smile, "Oh, sorry I didn't properly introduce myself; I'm Allen Walker."

Mikhail took his hand after a second of looking at his hair with interest, obviously another man that can be mesmerized by the color. "Mikhail Viacheslav." He shook the ungloved hand firmly, and then retreated back into his jacket's pocket. Allen had motioned to Mikhail to sit down in one of the chairs that detailed the room, and he agreed without hesitation; Lenalee and Yoshimata proceeded to do the same. They discussed the plan of the mission and the specific steps through which they would implement it, just to set him at ease. After deliberations Mikhail approved of the plan, thus setting the time of their departure at ten in the night. Now, they wait.

* * *

The hours passed excruciatingly slowly. In the meantime, Allen and Lenalee decided to step out for awhile to go explore the local areas around the hotel. While they were respectively examining the culture of the city, Mikhail and Yoshimata were having routine conversations in Russia once again. Mikhail thought he could mess up the Japanese teen with trick-questions of historical background and even about some foods that were available, but he somehow managed to hold his own.

Once all those events were said and done with, the group reconvened outside of the hotel near the hour upon which they would leave. Mikhail stood in front of the Exorcists, his gaze firm and untainted. He spoke in his broken English once more, "We're going to head down a local road towards the Kazan. While it may take longer time to get there, we will still be able to get there at good time." He held up his hand with his fingers unclenched but seeming to be pointing at them through his gloves. "You're to stay with me at all times, no matter what. The areas we are about to go through are especially dangerous at night, but are the only way I can get you there without any troubles from the local curfew. Am I clear?" All three of them gave their agreements, and Mikhail repositioned his papakhi upon his head. "Stay close, and follow me."

The streets they walked through were desolate and cold. Where people should have been, there was snow. Snow, snow, and more snow. They crossed through alley after alley, taking troops through the abandoned streets as if they were some sort of rag-tag fugitives on the run from the law and didn't wish to be seen. They were in luck: almost everyone had gone to their beds, sleeping away to the silence of the night. 'Almost everyone' is a description used quite correctly in this sense, for there was one place that was open at this time of night: the local bar. The lights were still on, and people were still drinking their little hearts, and livers, away. The most dangerous part of a bar was not its inside but its outside, where police rules seemed to fade away to drunken stupor and uninhibited ambitions for revenge for a small comment about someone's mother that was merely jokingly suggested. Eyes watch, waiting with almost a childish trap set up for an unsuspecting victim.

Lenalee was rubbing her gloved hands together; her breath now puffs of heat that gave off steam into the darkness. She looked to her left, towards Yoshimata. Inside of her mind, she felt a little awkward with what she wanted to ask, but she went ahead with it anyways. "Yoshimata?"

The boy looked up from staring at the ground, surprised that she was actually talking to him. "Hm?" He hummed, "What is it?"

"If it's not too much to ask, but why do you know how to speak Russian? When did you learn it?" She cringed a little inside, hoping she didn't bring something up she shouldn't know about.

However, Yoshimata just laughed cheerfully to the question. "That's the first time I've actually been asked about _anything_ personal in a long time." He let his arms fall from where he was resting them on the back of his head. He looked to her, "I learned it a long time ago in Korea, the place where I grew up as a child."

Lenalee felt confused by his remark. "But you told us you were Japanese, when Komui was marking down your file in his office-interview…"

He nodded, "Yes, I did, and I am. However, I was merely _born_ in Japan to Japanese parents. I later…" His tone trailed off from informative to something that resembled regret, mystery or sadness. "… was stranded in Korea, with both of my parents missing from sight. I never saw them again, and even then my memory was fading of what they even were like or how much they'd loved me." He lowered his head, closing his eyes. "For all I know, they could've been dead."

Lenalee looked away, instantaneously knowing that she touched something that she shouldn't have; something that was rather buried than to be brought up like this. She looked back to Yoshimata, apologizing within her muttering "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring that up for you. It was out of line-" She stopped when he held up his hand with a weaker smile then comparably before.

"You don't need to apologize, Lenalee. I've made my peace, regrettably, without my parents." His grin turned wily, "After all, if I hadn't survived as they did not, I wouldn't have had the chance to show up to the Black Order. I would've missed out on the chances to meet with Yoko, Sami, Allen, and even you, Lenalee." He laughed awkwardly, looking embarrassed. "I guess that I being an orphaned child did bring some good after all!"

She couldn't help but smile and feel relieved. _He wasn't offended at all._ She felt the awkwardness, giving a post-thought;_ At least, I hope he wasn't..._ Lenalee looked forward consciously to where Allen and Mikhail were supposed to have been, only to find that they were no longer there. She could barely see them in the distance, being engulfed by the snow and night that the short-horizon offered down the road. Aghast, she said "We're being left behind, Yoshimata!"

He looked down from the sky, surprised. "Ah, you're right! We must've slowed down quite a bit!" He replied with a whimsical voice. "We'd best try to catch up, if we want to be able to reach them."

Both Exorcists began to sprint, the snow squashing under their boots with a crunching slap that picked up its rhythm with every step. The silhouetted images of Allen and Mikhail crept closer and closer at what seemed to be a ridiculously oxymoronic pace that seemed fast and at the same time slow. Lenalee rang a suggestion through her mind, to call out and ask them to wait for them. Her conscience belled in, querying if yelling at the two in the dim night was really a good idea. Before her mind could catch itself in the first syllable, her foot was pulled back in the snow and she lost her balance towards the ground. Barely comprehending what had happened, she found herself face-down in the snow. "What?" She gasped from the shock of the cold water against her skin, feeling goose-bumps crawl up her skin with the cold until she began to break out in shivers.

At her side almost immediately, Yoshimata was trying to pick her up with her right arm. "What happened?" He began to bring her to her to her feet, looking to her feet for the perpetrator.

Lenalee reached down to the ground where she fell, and shelved through the snow on the cobble-stones. Though her hand had become numb now from the ice, she still felt_ something_ in the snow. Picking it out of the snow, her hand revealed to have been holding a sort of rope that was barely larger then a small cone but as white as the snow it basked in. "A rope?" She rung it out further until finally both of them saw that it wasn't just lying in the street, but it led directly into two alleyways parallel on different sides of the street.

That's when Lenalee first heard the laughing. It sounded faint, almost mistakably masked in a shroud of wind that pushed the snow once in awhile in due course. It sounded less like an Akuma's laugh of chortling with demonic pleasure that stemmed from the possibility, or just the thought of a kill. The laughs grew from both sides as the shadows themselves grew torsos. From those torsos came arms, legs, and eventually heads that seemed to just be blanded by their alleyways with little description beyond the fact of rosy cheeks that compacted almost similar stares of laziness, contempt, and vigor afforded only to those that've been shot thoroughly by a glass of vodka, every time into the stomach if they aimed them properly. Lenalee faced towards a left-wards alleyway, with four men following the rope. Yoshimata had cautiously taken the right, facing against six men.

Yoshimata backed up, trying to get as close to Lenalee without having to turn completely around. He whispered, "Bar-flies. It seems they've finally had their limit in drink, but not enough to knock them clean out." He waited to hear Lenalee breathe, if not for her to add to what he was trying to get at, and continued. "We need to be _very_ careful." The men had gathered around the two, almost like a pack of jackals to a wounded deer.

Straightening his back, Yoshimata walked forward. Speaking in Russian, he tried to dissuade the near-dozen bar-brawlers. "Please, my good sirs, to what do we owe this fine evening with you gentlemen?"

One of them gave a short, little laugh "We're here to have some fun! Why should the fun end after that fucking place tells us we've had enough? I'll tell you when I've had enough, is when…" He trailed on and on a little bit, not even forming coherent words soon after 'enough'. After a few seconds, he got back on track. He pointed an empty bottle towards Lenalee and Yoshimata, "I'm saying here that you'd better give us your money, friend."

One of his friends opened his arms in spread-eagle, agreeing with the drunk. "Yeah, come on! Give us your money, _friend_! Keep the good times going on, you know!" He stumbled a bit from his feet, seeming to be too drunk to keep himself planted on the ground.

Lenalee gripped her fists discreetly, getting the hint of disparity in their voices. Yoshimata raised his hands to try and keep them calm, keeping his legs firm. "If you need some money, I'm afraid you're out of luck." He reached into his jacket pocket and removed several pieces of paper. "I've been given only a few pounds by my 'bosses', as you'd say. So," He looked from one man to the next with a sort of neutralized face that had frozen from his grin that had formed when he showed the money in his pocket.

The man with the bottle didn't take this lightly. He spat on the ground, spittle splattering in its own way against a rare patch of barren cobblestone. The man's grip on his empty charge began to tighten, as he held it less like a loosened old ringer and more like a bludgeoner. His wrist flicked an inch in a twitch and back again to its place of original birth. "You're from the West!" He nearly howled, "You _always_ have money! Look, look at your clothes! They're covered in _golden buttons!_" Where he pointed, the eyes of his groupies followed like obedient but also equal dogs of a pack. They all began to growl, clearly upset with this discovery. "We're the ones who deserve that money, not _you!_ We work every day in the factories, yet you can just walk in here like fucking Tsars!" His drink was rushing to his head with his blood, his eyes blood-shot and his muscles on fire with unobservable energy. He lashed his free hand out, grabbing towards the air that separated him and his newfound tyrant, itself a veil of decency and commonality that should have bound them together like brothers, but was revealed to all be a lie by his drink. "But not anymore! I'm going to end my suffering, and bring yours to its start!" His tyrant's right foot stepped back, his body shifting as if a singular mountain was being pulled by the weight of a thousand wild horses. Encouraged by the echoes of his own voice giving him his own order, the Bottle Man roared to the night as he swung his weapon back. No words were spoken to this point, just the roar filled of aired vodka and an assortment of bread and dare. Swing, swung, the bottle came down. Crashed, it left a mark that befit the evil king of the night, dressed in leather that was laced in red and pimped in gold: a scar deep into his head that swayed a river of blood through onyx-black hair.

That _is _what should have happened, if this brawling beast of cloth, sweat, steel and steal was simply going after a man of his own caliber of flesh relatively built by hard labor in the local factory. A sharp contrast to what happened in reality, it is. The bottle never had its meeting with Yoshimata's head. Instead, the drunkards' weapon swooped down at Yoshimata and crashed through air and threw the drunkard off-balance. Yoshimata had moved from his spot in a single side-step, bringing him to the left now with his arms still held out in a sort of defensive position. Barely taking the time to comprehend that he had missed entirely the first time, the drunk began to stumble for his next strike. He reached his empty hand out to grab Yoshimata's arm, but was met inversely with his _own_ arm being not only grabbed, but _locked_. The Exorcist, in a fluid motion, had grabbed his assailant's wrist and pulled him closer in a bodily fashion that moved him with the force of his own attack. He rolled his left arm under the man's left, wrapping it firmly with his upper arm in a position that left it immobile, and seemed to almost punch up into the air while still wrapped around his left arm and locked them together like children getting ready to skip down the road. The two were locked in both their left arms with Yoshimata taking hold and dominance of the lock by being able to position himself facing towards the man's side, literally facing down the man's arm towards his head as he spread out half-eagle. This was done in less then a second, and took barely a breath to accomplish.

The man gasped a last word of conscious thought, "What?" and dropped his bottle. The speed of his own defeat was resoundingly _fast_. Going from the top of the world to this confusing position, he could have only gasped that word to summarize the entirety of his world at the moment. Yoshimata's free hand, his right hand, fell down with a blur enhanced by both its speed and the ever-so power of vodka. The side of the chop hit behind the drunks' head, knocking him out completely with a groan of pain and a flinch of his body's consciousness. The bottle fell to the snowed ground with an empty sigh, and was followed by its lover a moment later.

Lenalee had seen the entire thing, but didn't know how to react. _That… he…_ Was all she could think of, barely comprehending what she now comprehended. The chop was more then a simple melee move done on the fly, being done with such careful aim and excellent execution that seemed like a cough from his mouth or a blink of his eye. The grouped men were shocked as well, only after a few seconds the man had fallen down to the road. The men yelled amongst their drunken selves, from one part of the road to the other with no concern about their volume or subtlety. Yoshimata looked to Lenalee, whom was backing up to close the distance between herself and her apparent partner in this growing frenzy of echoed shouts. He decided that she wouldn't need his help; he could tell even from the very beginning, far before even this first mission that he would need to rely on her for good reason. The shouts turned to murmurs between the combatants on their own alley-sides, their echoes barely a whisper now.

Then, they stopped altogether. Silence; anxious, utterly dreadful silence captivated the streets. When they attacked, they ran all at once in their drunken steps in a sort of enclosing noose closing in on a bare neck. However, this neck _fought back._ The noose was broken to bits by every sort of hand-to-hand combat move known to even the basic warrior, going not for a kill but just enough to send them into their dreams on the left side. On the right of the neck, the rope was torn by simply the well-placed and powerful kicks delivered, one by one each going town efficiently, if not just through the simple power of alcohol.

Outside the scuffle and yells and delivered pains, Allen and Mikhail at realized from outside of their obliviousness there was no one but themselves on the road. When they had turned around, they saw very faintly in the distance the sight of shadows engaged in a violent dance. Alarmed, they ran as fast as their legs could carry them, only to arrive upon a completely beaten-down group of Russian men, stood above by Lenalee and Yoshimata.

Allen gently put his left arm on Lenalee's right arm, perplexed. "Lenalee, what happened here?"

She looked down to the ground around them, catching her breath. When it was caught, "These men left a local bar drunk as could be, and decided to try and trip me when we were talking." She bent down into the snow, picking up the string that somehow remained in place despite the scuffle. "They tripped me with this, and tried to rob us by force." She sighed, rubbing the back of her head., "They were disgruntled workers for the local factory, and… well, they attacked us because we looked like we're wealthy."

His eyes looking over the defeated workers, muttering to himself almost unconsciously, "That's what the world has come to, these days… men against men, tricking and thieving to try and get ahead, even if it means abandoning the word of their God. Going at each other, and even others like wild beasts, all for some shiny trinkets…" His face turned from disappoint into a contorted mask of absolute disgust, reaching boldly and sluggishly for his truncheon as if like a father discovering something his favorite children have done to dishonor his family name. Allen quickly grabbed Mikhail's arm with both of his, taken aback by the officer's sudden outburst. Mikhail was yelling something now incoherently in Russian so violently that, later, even Yoshimata would attest that was probably not something you would say at a church, all while trying to rip Allen off of him.

Yelling, his British accent reflecting off of Mikhail's Russian like light to a glass menagerie, "Please, stop! Don't be so upset, sir, my friends are alright! You don't have to do this for _their_ sake!" He was shaken about, being evidence to the fact that despite himself having a body put to test for chore after chore in Cross's stead and performing in battles and exercises that would leave any natural anatomist and physicist astounded and befuddled, Allen still allowed himself to be pushed by Mikhail. He just couldn't bring himself to hit someone else when they've never really done anything wrong, and even when they're probably going to _do_ something wrong. Mikhail gave a sharply reduced snarl, breathing heavily as he looked into the pleading eyes that seemed to mystically wrap themselves through to his very soul. Allen's voice carefully worded his next sentence, trying to help him understand his point. "I'm from the Black Order, a secret organization of the Catholic Church. I'm a soldier for God and Jesus Christ, and although that may be true to every word that is scripted in His Bible, my master makes a good point on one thing: An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind."

Mikhail looked him in the eye, and mumbled between himself and Allen. "We worship the same Lord, right? Why, then, are we so different from each other?" He looked to Allen, his face's emotions replaced from anger and corporal punisher to a sinfully down-troddenly sad and lost death-mask. "Weren't we all born in His image?"

To this, Allen could only stare with Mikhail, as they both were suddenly caught on their own beliefs, standing in the middle of Saint Petersburg's night-ware streets in the cold. Lenalee and Yoshimata are their witnesses, and the ice that paved both the roads and sculpted from the gutters was their spiritual incense.

* * *

They stood in front of the magnificent triumph of the Cathedral of Our Lady of Kazan. It spread out with splendor that acted like the arms of the city reservedly opening towards all those who would take its grasp. It was dominated by a protruding dome that crowned the head that sprouted from the middle of the structure by its shoulders. Around the entire courtyard, there was an empty silence that even amplified their breathing to near hypersonic levels. Mikhail's hands swung freely from his sides as he looked on with the intent of someone meeting an old flame. He muttered, "Kazanskiy Kafedralniy Sobor", obviously the Russian name of the cathedral, as if he were talking to the altar itself. He looked to his sides, reaffirming everyone was together, and he led the way down the yard. Their boots crankled the snow and clapped the air once more, but only now the echoes barely returned to create their second applause. In fact, this place was so large that you could be sure that you were walking an eternity towards your tomb. It was a haunting feeling, that all four felt with the chill of their previous encounter.

They reached the main gate, where they met a locked door. Now that there was a possible public hazard inside the Cathedral, the local police had set up a curfew on this particular night as well as setting up guards to the locked door to the interior. When they arrived at the doors, however, there was no guard at all. Mikhail looked around in confusion, then spat out another profanity in Russian. He looked back and forth from the doors to his charges. He then said in English, "I cannot believe it! The useless little… they left their post!" He pointed at the two places next to the door, where in front of the arch that detailed the outline around the giant wooden frame and its hinges there was enough space to fit a fully grown man.

"Should there be any reason for them to leave?" Lenalee asked, curious.

Mikhail stomped his foot, and shook his head. "No. On no chances should a police man leave his post, even if it meant death." He refit his papakhi, pulling on the seemingly fiber pieces that decorated it. "A bunch of damned kids, that's what they are. I'll find them and smash their heads in!" He shoved his gloved fist inside of his uniform pocket and pulled out a brass key. Mikhail took the door-handle with his free left hand and put the key inside the lock. However… the door was already unlocked. Surprised, Mikhail only asked "What in the…?" He didn't finish, too surprised.

Allen walked next to Mikhail, half to look inside first and half to try to keep the group moving forward instead of falling behind of schedule again. "Why is the door unlocked?" He rubbed the left part of his head, moving his hair as his glove rapped against it. "Do you think they could be inside, at the altar?"

Mikhail shook his head, stomping his foot. "They shouldn't be!" He raised his voice, and used his shoulder to barge open the large door. With no concern for decency, he entered the open hall-way with the force of a practical juggernaught and the temper of an outraged wooly bear. To the back, from the Exorcists' point of view, Mikhail was marching wildly into a dark, night-lighten cavern that was given the image of a cave. The cave had giant stalagmites that stood up in rounded position from the ceiling to the floor, and ghostly faces with beady, harsh eyes starred from the darkness whenever they looked hard enough. The three walked in cautiously.

* * *

The inside was something completely different from the cavern they saw from the outside. Inside, the entire structure was made from valuable stones ranging from marble to even _gold_, going forward in a straight line to what seemed to be the altar of the entire city, or even the entire empire was situated in put in one room! The moon shone in through the glass of the dome which gave the embracing arms their head, bringing in a natural light to illuminate the Cathedral's gifts for the worshippers in procession. The Exorcists couldn't help but feel miniaturized, dwarfed in comparison of the huge pillars that lined the halls, to feel ostracized and plain while walking next to the illuminated works of art from all over the world that glorified the Lord and his prophets, all binded together like a gravitational pull from a star to the center-point of the Kazan. Allen whispered quietly, stopping after turning and twisting to look at all of the beauty around him, "This is… incredible."

Yoshimata nodded, his face almost ghostly in the darkness around them which left only his bared body to be seen, instead of his uniform and hair which were like every single others: black. "This is the type of place where someone can just feel… unimportant. It's almost like we're standing on the edge of the precipice of the world itself." He looked up in memorization, looking to the sky.

Reaching the center, Mikhail stormed around the altar, stopping only promptly to briefly look straight-on in an almost military-at-attention form to the picture of Jesus Christ. He muttered a quick prayer, and then let his temper continue as he began to speak in his broken English. "Where are they?" He stepped up the stairs to the portrait, looking around to the frescos rimming the dome and designing the ceilings. He moved to his left slightly, looking through to the space between the pillars and the wall, down to the entrance, only to see Allen standing there looking rather awkward.

Allen called over, "They aren't over here, sir! There are just locked doors, and they seem to be locked from our side!" He showed through example, fiddling with the knob was it would not budge an inch from its mahogany-set rest.

Lenalee walked next to Allen, looking through the thinly lit darkness to gently put a hand on his shoulder. "Yoshimata tried the doors on the opposite side; they're also locked, and there's no sign of forced entry." She looked down to the pillars that edged toward the altar, but was actually looking through the space between the pillars to see if she could identify their new comrade's progress. Lenalee could see clearly that he had stopped near a window, the night giving him his outline from far away.

Allen felt strangely peculiar when he felt her hand touch his shoulder. He couldn't feel it through his uniform, granted, but he could still _feel_ the delicate but at the same time strong weight of her hand lightly gripping him. He felt goosebumps forming on the back of his neck, losing his sense of hearing for a moment. _What? _He thought to himself, shaking himself out of his confusing and outrageously sudden daze. _This is no time to lose focus!_ He turned to her fully and nodded in understanding, his gaze meeting nothing but normalcy for a cathedral. But that wasn't normal for him, not in a million years; he never before felt so… weak, so insecure but at the same time, deep inside of his heart happy. Then, the breath was nearly knocked out of him when his world was submerged into darkness; that moment of oddness was gone, and he was once again an Exorcist. He was again standing in the halls of the Kazan, and now he had to do what he had come here to do: protect the Innocence, and to save the souls of the Akuma.

The night was normal again, as normal 'normal' _could_ be for an Exorcist.

* * *

**Next chapter is the finishing up of the Dairu, Joseph and Krory mission. After that, wrapping up this arc and we're moving on to the bigger fish. You know, 'cause they're always a bigger fish. Then, there's an octopus [That satisfies every inch!], and then there's a shark. Then, there's a squid. Then, there's a whale, and then there's Jaws, and then there's Chuck Norris on a shark that is just as big as Jaws.**

**Crazy, am I? Why yes, 'cause I finally got this chapter done. Yippee! Skittles and porn for all!**


	23. Chapter 21

**Two steps away from the end of this arc.**

Aloisio was quite the runner. He was running with a small, uniformed and non-English speaking Exorcist with little presence to him as a Soldier to God than any other child he'd see running near the streets of the Base del Fe Punto in Madrid, at play rather than holding a giant block of purified metal on his back and swinging every which way in the middle of the forest. Aloisio couldn't help but idly noticing that even though that the sword, if it could be _called_ that, while gigantic beyond normal use barely felt like a butterfly on his back. Even so, it made contradictory physical movements that roared with columns of air past his body, slamming into the Akuma that got closer. Aloisio made his part of the job reality: he ran and dodged and did his best while Joseph was his shield and sword. _This is ridiculous! This is madness, it's pure and untamed madness!_ Joseph swung once again and an arm that was separated from its owner nearly punched Aloisio across the face. He reacted with a quick dodge that spared his face from any impact, but the blow fell to his shoulder and nearly caused him to slip from his feet. Joseph lunged forward from the sudden shift in weight, yelling at Aloisio as if he was an unruly ass. Through this whole confrontation, however, Aloisio did find time to pray for one thing to his Lord: _Please, let us get through this together. Don't let any of us die in these lonely, barren woods._

_

* * *

_

Blow to blow went Dairu's dagger against the agile hand of his opponent. He could barely catch his breath from one blow to another as the Akuma tried to reach him with its farthest clawed hand, itself abandoning its bulavas to the ground to engage in a more personal combat.

* * *

Akuma were never allowed to have their own possessions; the Earl forbade it and the Noah enforced it on the penalty for the unlucky demon that would be caught of the destruction of both their modified souls and their real, human souls. However, the imp had something close to a personal belonging that could never be reconciled through threats of annihilation: its lust for revenge. Before its untimely death, the imp was once a soldier in the Polish ranks of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth that was sent to fight in Vienna. With the name of Sobrul Hersar but the face of a regular human, he was sent along with German, Scottish, English, and French brothers-in-arms to fight with the Austrians and Hungarians at the gates of the capital of the Austrian Empire against a fateful and dramatic incursion by avalanche of the Ottoman Empire from their territories in Hungary. Sobrul Hersar, with bulavas in hand, went toe to toe against nameless men in close combat as blood from them as well as men he had practically grown up with drenched him. He wasn't the only one, since the battle had reached its epic climax with the walls of the city being broken down. The final cannon-shot to do so had such a flash to it that it practically tore his sense of sight from him as it whizzed by, bringing him to his knees in the Germanic and Oriental corpses. He held his gauntleted hands to his eyes, trying to compose himself as the blinding pain from the gunshot in his eyes. After a minute of blackened tears, he opened his eyes to meet the sheen of a sword swing into his left-shoulder, tearing a hole through his uniform on both ends as it stabbed though. His lungs lost their breath in shock as he was pushed in a bending form that nearly made him able to have his shoulder-blades touch his muddied boots, with his attacker's right foot pushing him down into the sword's tip. Sobrul knew he was about to die, he was sure of it. He was just another nameless man on this killing-field, giving red water to the plants as the conquerors moved forward. He coughed what he thought would be his final words to the man that had stricken him, although he really didn't expect or care if he had understood him. "No hope."

The man gave him a sort of bizarre, mad-man's grin that seemed to culminate all the radical pleasure that he felt in making Sobrul suffer like this. After three minutes acting like hours of unrepentant suffering in the clanging of swords, the screaming of men, the shouts in languages from far-flung corners of the continent, and the unforgettable claps and slaps of gun-fire Sobrul only had one request to ask. He looked to the sky, the bloody saliva from his coughs and throes covering his face like speckles, and asked one thing of anyone: "Please kill me." The request went two ways: Sobrul looked to his God for the final touch, as well as to his besieger for at least some form of mercy. He looked down from the sky to his killer, and he saw him raise his sword to finish him off. Sobrul closed his eyes, almost relieved for the sweet embrace of heavenly death. He had done his duty, he had suffered like he was supposed to: for his country, for his family, for his faith to his God he had fought and suffered through. Now, he waited for the end to come.

It didn't. He felt the earth shake uncharacteristically of the battlefields he had been on. He thought it was himself, shaking in another eruptive and bloody convulsion from the wounds he was given. However, this rumbling was from the earth itself, not from the dirt he shook in spasms. He opened his eyes weakly to see his killer was no longer there, instead seeing the galloping of horses through what had been an Ottoman front-line. He saw the colors of the Austrian Imperial Calvary as well as the Hungarian Royal Calvary with them combined with those from his own of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth ride in blurs on their horses through the corpses and the blood as they raised an earthquake with their amount of force. He thought he could watch the horses and their riders go on for hours as it seemed, and he would never see the end of their charge.

He let his head fall into the dirt again with resignation. Tears welted in his eyes in anguish as the pain of just living growing more and more, with the feeling of his clothes leaving his legs from what he dreaded to be the loss of his blood. "God, why?" He could only sob as the pain intensified. "Why do I live? I asked for _death_! I wanted to leave this plain, to leave behind this vessel to return to you!" Sobrul could only count the reasons he had resigned his life as he continued from hollow sobs to accusing screams that drowned his ears of the war around him. "I read the Book over and over again, from childhood to now! I had done everything You had asked, to serve Your will and my people, my _family_!" He tried to get his ceremonial officer's dagger from its holster on his ankle, but he no longer had the strength to even raise a finger. His sobs lessened as he felt the world leave him, after nearly an hour of nothing but pure suffering in a lake of blood and dead men with the stifling stench of certain doom around him. Sobrul's eyes fluttered, and he whispered bitterly his true last words as a living being: "You betrayed me."

The pain was gone from him. His eyes opened once more in agony, but realized that the sky had lost its colors of blue and white and instead became black and white, with a _huge_ moon presiding over him and the field he laid in. He felt a cold and gripping wind flow over him, and when he looked to the horizon, he saw a strange, floating ball cascaded towards him. He picked himself up, feeling neither the ground his hands used as support nor the wind he _felt_ before. "What is this…" He whispered, looking at his hands. They were still bloody, and he touched his hands to the gaping wound in his shoulder. He was still a bloody rag, and was still surrounded and guarded by the corpses of the men whom he had felled and those who had felled with him. He looked down at his calloused hands, mumbling to himself, "Is this my final place? Have I been cursed to Hell?"

A laugh arose from a close ways away. He raised his head, looking in the way it came from. The ball had closed in substantially, transforming from just a regular, tanned bag of air into a creature with a wicked and widely toothed smile but also a disarmingly regal top hat with decorations galore. The… man, if it could be called that from what Sobrul could distinguish, was floating not from the wind he felt but not felt, but just by its own consent hinged to an umbrella with a pumpkin attached on the top. The man settled down in a surprisingly nimble landing on a corpse in front of him, retracting his umbrella into a closed form. He leaned forward in a sort of welcoming bow, and Sobrul gave his own in caution a split second afterward. The two starred at each other, but not in the way Sobrul had with his opponent. They seemed to be looking into each others eyes, searching for a meaning for this meeting between them. Sobrul broke first from the glassed glare of the blue man, looking down to his tanned jacket that covered his purple and blue underclothing. He had looked at a picture of someone who had a similar attire to this strange, large creature; it had been a noble from the British Empire. _Will… will I be able to speak with him? Does he speak the same language as I?_

"Yes." The creature spoke in Polish, suddenly breaking the silenced void that was between them. He continued, "I am the Millennium Earl, and I am afraid to tell you that you have died in vain." The Earl moved from corpse to corpse in a bouncing sort of way, disregarding the scantity that a man had after he had died as if they were nothing to him but step-stones elevated like chairs to step between an invisible river. Even without the corpses, the Earl was an imposing figure to Sobrul, and that was no great exaggeration. "You fought in this field, but you weren't given a quick death like those vermin you extinguished or your comrades who fought alongside you. You were left to die after your army had won the struggle, and by your God who had struck a blow to yours and his worst enemy." The Earl looked to the moon, and sighed. "Your God spat on you as you pleaded for the pain to end, and all you could do was accept it."

Sobrul studded, "I… I was abandoned?" His breathing heaved in his chest, his entire life crashing on him in his deathly conversation with the bulbous Earl. "My… my God left me to suffer. I _fought_ for him, but he couldn't return me the favor of allowing me to die at least painlessly!" He spat the words bitterly from his mouth, his anger fermenting within him. He felt the weight on his painlessly wounded shoulder, and saw the pumpkin-umbrella on him like a knighting ceremony.

The next words echoed throughout the shadowed world around Sobrul, as if a new truth was revealed unto him. "Would you like to serve a new God; one who'll take revenge on the one who abandoned you?" He waved his hand like a fly was bugging him, and a large tablet of stone rose from the dirt. The Earl chuckled, "Your human body, although strong in muscle, was weak in composition and composure. Your soul is a warriors one, but your body couldn't match it for its strength and limited you to small feats of glory." The Earl walked to the tablet and placed a hand on the stone, as if he was its loving father, and it was his own little boy. "If you choose to serve me, you'll be given a new body. Although you'll be different from the rest of the world for sure, you'll be able to kill those who continue to carelessly serve that puny God, and you'll transform into something far greater in return. I am giving you another chance to redeem yourself and to serve a loving and vengeful fate." He pointed his umbrella in front of Sobrul, motioning for him to take it in hold. "Will you take my offer?"

The benefits offered to him were too good to refuse. He was abandoned by one God, but now he had the chance to take his vengeance on those who continued to live for that universal traitor. Sobrul took a strong, true grip on the umbrella, stating, "I will serve you, Millennium Earl. I want my revenge; I want to live for you and God." He would never be the same; his conscious need for vengeance, to redeem himself would be lost upon him until he became a Level Two Akuma. That would be nearly two centuries later, leaving him to be just another mindless drone of the armies of the Earl, clandestinely working in darkened and uninhabited areas of the earth, packed together like bees in hives under the ground until they would finally reemerge at the dawn of the nineteenth century, when they would occupy a land of warriors in bulky armor and swords that seemed to regard them not as religious demons but as demons of a mythology. They fell all the same. Their blood gave him the strength he needed, the amount of power he needed to become a conscious thing again

The imp discarded the bulavas with this consciousness. Sobrul Hersar died long ago, on the fields of Vienna, and now he was a demonic monstrosity that existed to fight, kill and destroy. Now, he was **fighting** this child with tanned skin like that of the Turk that killed him to **kill **Exorcists that served the God that had betrayed _him,_ and to **destroy** the Innocence that gave these bastards their power to wage their war against his new God and the Earl that had saved him. This was his possession, and it was his only purpose now. Fuck existence.

* * *

Dairu was barely keeping up now with the Akuma. He was slowing down steadily with the continued barrage, his weapon being tangled in one part with the Akuma's arm and the dagger attached to it being less then capable of catching the blindingly fast strikes. At first, Dairu was able to block six blows and take only one to his body. After half a minute of this continued rounds, that average fell to three to one, and when another minute went by he barely blocked two and took one to his body for every strike dealt. He couldn't return a dealing blow, but he couldn't say the same for the demon he was harassing. All Dairu had to know was that he had to keep this Akuma at bay long enough for Joseph and Aloisio to escape. He kept pushing what weight he had against his larger adversary, to keep it from getting to the weary lump that was the unconscious Arystar Krory. _He's still out from that head-slam from the Akuma._ Dairu reminded himself. _I am the only thing keeping him from this beast, and I need to hold out until he can wake up and help me._ He bore every blunt thrust for this purpose, and he knew where he bled for his friends. His arms were wearing and bruised from the Akuma's struggling, his chest had two blows dealt that he couldn't really judge the damage of at the current time, and he was slashed near his upper neck in an attempted thrust to either decapitate him or to just make him bleed. There, he felt warmth going down his neck, which was cold from evaporating perspiration. They tangled back and forth, bound by the chain of Innocence that armed Dairu and disarmed the beast, tugging in the moonlight to what seemed their crescendos of death.

Finally, the imp was able to slip Dairu off his footing and dropped him to the ground. From here, the Akuma could finally dominate his weaker prey with his sheer power and finish him off for good. Dairu raised his dagger again in a jerking upward motion that strayed away from its original trajectory and slashed the Akuma upwards from the right side of its face, upwards to its forehead. The wound left a gash across its face that splurged the inner oils of the mechanical demon from its casing to the ground. The imp gave out a shriek that pierced the heavens above and drilled such a terrible sound into the memories of Dairu, which he will probably never forget. With a good thrust of its arm, the beast retaliated against the glaring blow to his face by backhanding Dairu to the ground, as well as finally untangling his arm from the chain. This threat of these 'anti-Akuma Weapon' he had been briefed on by the Earl wasn't much to fear; he had easily held off the small brat with the huge sword, knocked out that tall Romanian with the vampiric-like Innocence with just a blow to his head, and now he was about to kill the kid with by far the weakest but also the most annoying Innocence of the three. He just _had_ to soak in this triumph.

"You call yourself a soldier? You're just a flimsy little child, and even then you should be able to fight harder. You have the very weapon to kill me, so why don't you use it? I am about to kill you and the rest of your _pathetic Exorcist comrades_, and all you had to hold me back was a chain and a little knife!" The Akuma laughed a hideous, maleficent laugh that gurgled with the oil that entered its throat from the wound. Spitting it out on the ground next to Dairu, the Akuma stepped forward menacingly. "Do you have any last words, traitor?"

"Ehi! Demoniaco mangia-merda!" _Hey! Demonic shit-eater!_ A smaller child's voice yelled from across the clearing to the forest. There stood Joseph Colombo, dressed in scratches and wielding his sword in his hands with a sense of re-found confidence. "Allontanati da lui, _diavolo_! Sono io il tuo avversario, e affronterai me come tale!" _Get the hell away from him! I am your opponent, and you will face me as such!_ Although the Akuma had no idea what he was saying, Joseph was secretly trying to show Dairu that he was here and that he wasn't scared anymore. Joseph was tired of being the little kid that they babied, and he wanted to show that although he was smaller then the rest of them and not nearly as smart, he was still tough enough to fight.

Shocked, Dairu yelled in fear, "Joseph? Vattene via da qui subito! Tu ed Aloisio dovreste portare quell'Innocence al sicuro, non ammetto scuse!" _Joseph? Get away from here right now! You and Aloisio are supposed to be getting that Innocence to safety, and I won't hear otherwise!_He was legitimately fearing for Joseph's life now. He could barely have held on by himself, instead betting on the off chance that Krory would've woken up in time, and he was beaten down easily. Right now, he could scarcely believe that the diminutive Joseph would be able to pose much of a challenge. Joseph, however, just acted like he didn't hear and strode forward to challenge the beast once more. The Akuma itself looked both bemused but also glad that its old target had returned for another tangle, and that was too much for him to bear sitting down. Dairu screamed louder, "Scappa, accidenti! Allontanati da qui, è un _ordine_, Joseph! Mi hai sentito?" _Run, dammit! Get away from here, that is an order, Joseph! Do you hear me?_

He was rebutted by the beast, which snapped at him. "Keep your mouth closed and cease your incessant crying, _boy_! This is a fight for men, and this kid wants to show how much of a man he is!" The Akuma quickly stepped over to grab his pair of bulavas, obviously taking this matter to the utmost serious point. "And I have just enough muse in me to oblige him!" It rose to full height, swinging its weapons in a cheerful sort of manner, trying to collect what strength remained inside of his bio-mechanical-demonic body, if there _is_ a way to describe it.

The two foes looked to each other from across the clearing once more, no longer in the middle of a battlefield quickly trying to end the feud with one or two blows so they may rejoin their own comrades. They were now on equal understanding as well as footing, each with their own time to take. Their grips tightened to the point that it hurt both of their palms. However, the tension was too wired to be able to allow it to loosen on a single movement to relax for comfort. Their eyes were level, their missions righteous, and they leaped at the same exact time at each other. Two weapons in hand for the Akuma and one in two hands for the Exorcist, they met once again. Joseph connected first, pushing the Akuma to defend itself with its right bulava to shield its right flank from the imposing sword. Joseph twisted around with surprising ease, slamming another blow to the Akuma's left, which was caught with ease. Joseph brought the sword up again behind his head and in short time brought it down on the Akuma. The beast thought it could defeat the Exorcist like before with another crossed-block to deftly trap the Innocence once more in its Dark Matter-laced bulavas, but Joseph learned from the last encounter and quickly leaped deftly into the air, using the sword's large mass which unaffected himself in swinging and used it as a counter-balance against the beginning of the trap in it's stage which made it look like an 'X' and slide the edge of the sword down to the Akuma!

The imp gasped in realization to the counter-attack and lifted the bulavas just in time to only get stabbed in the shoulder. Oddly enough, it was right around the same spot it was stabbed when he was a human in the flesh. This bitter irony wasn't lost on him, and he started to laugh hysterically despite the predicament. This wasn't a fatal blow, but it still posed a threat if the boy was allowed to move his sword around to actually cause further damage. The imp leapt backwards, trying to drag itself off the sword in the process. The sword slurped on its way out with a sickening, bloody pulpish sound complete with its own small rain of oily, blackish-purple fluids. Joseph took a step backwards, digging his left heel into the soil and let the sword slam into the ground. While the sword was almost one and a half his size, Joseph fluidly attacked the Akuma while keeping his shoddy, amateur foot-steps in place as he kept up his side of the fight.

* * *

Dairu stepped out of the way quickly as the duel pushed its way towards him. He came to rest beside Aloisio, whom was tending to Krory's wounds from the Level two's claws as best as he could with his field medical-package. Dairu whispered to Aloisio, "How's he doing? Will he live?"

Continuing to wrap a wound on Krory's arm, holding it up while the Exorcist laid flat on the ground face-up, Aloisio replied "He most likely will. He wasn't hurt that badly from the Akuma, rather he made a tactical mistake in over-exhausting himself in an extremely short amount of time. Look at his arm, from the elbow up." He lifted the jacket's sleeve up to show red blotches on the skin which held bruises that resembled pentacles in several dispersed areas on the skin. "His body is fighting the virus as best as it can, but he's too weak to handle it as he normally could. Well, that's my hypothesis anyways."

A loud clang from the fight brought the two heads up in a snap, seeing Joseph holding the sword in a declining swing with his left hand as the Akuma's bulava flung out of its hand. Joseph spun lazily around, trying to catch is balance after exerting so much power to knock just one of the Akuma's weapons. The imp leaped back in defense, running for the fallen weapon before Joseph could follow-up; it was being pushed back.

In amazement, Dairu mumbled to himself, "How'd he suddenly get so strong…? He was beaten handily by Krory during the test trials, but now he's actually fighting with his brain instead of his muscles."

With a cracked grunt, Krory apparently gained consciousness and answered him. "Sometimes, the mere feelings of an Exorcist can increase the synchronization rate between the weapon and its wielder. With a Parasitic weapon, this bond is more evident due to the stronger connection from weapon to owner, while the Equipment weapons have difficulty responding to emotions like rage, sorrow, or bravery." He coughed slightly, causing his face to flinch from the roaring pain that followed en suite. "I wouldn't count him out yet, though." His voice trailed off and laid his head back into the grass with loss of consciousness.

Again and again the imp stepped back. The footing grew looser and wetter with every step towards the river, causing it to slip if it put a step out of place with disproportionate weight. The Akuma pushed forward by swinging low with the single remaining bulava in its right hand, swooping in a crescent motion upwards. Joseph barely blocked it with a bare parry that he had to hold with his left hand at the hilt, and his right hand on the blade. While the blade was dull, it still cut him from the kick-back of the blow from the Akuma. The Akuma and Joseph stood on equal ground now, each with only one weapon and practically fighting single-handed, since the Akuma seemed to only be able to fight single-handedly with individual bulavas together, while Joseph's hand was too injured to be able to handle another swing without becoming a detriment to his survival. Both looked at each other's eyes with bitter focus, barely keeping their breathing under control. Without warning nor command for either, the demon and human stepped back two steps from one another and held their weapons back: the final blow was at stake, as well as their entire war against each other. Joseph Columbo's brown eyes seemed to burn with the passion of a maturing young lad burned by the scorn of real life, while the creature once known to people long ago as Sobrul Hersar stared back with unflinching pupils of pure, unimaginable hatred that contrasted to his mechanical and pale carapace.

The lunge came, and both combatants yelled in blood-curdling cries of desperation against each other's, swinging their weapons back and intentionally against each other's very existence. The sword and bulava met in the air and let out a shriek of metal, and the shock-wave from their collective kinetic energies sent goose-bumps up Joseph's arm. Joseph pressed against his sword with his right arm, pushing with all his might against the inhuman strength of the demon to the point that they were both shaking as each pushed their last reserves into this final draw in the dirt. Joseph blinked as blood from a wound on his forehead re-opened from the amount of stress he was in, trying to get it out of his eyes. He could barely hear the sound of chipping metal and wood, until he saw that the last bulava broke away at least. With no more energy to spare, Joseph let himself fall forward with the blade held out against his body and forced with his weight as he sliced Sobrul Hersar down from the left shoulder to what was supposed to be his hip, with more than five inches of the Innocence-constructed sword being buried in. Joseph looked upon his last efforts to kill the Akuma, and merely gave a bloody grin as he left the support of the sword from the grass to an angled stop against its target, falling to the ground. Sobrul's eyes were blank, looking into the air as if he were trying to see something right before his death. The last word he was to utter as his apparent final form as a demon was simply "damn". His life faded away, the shell that the sword leaned into just unnatural armor, futuristic mechanics and organic compounds that served as acidic materials as well as sort of blood. One lived, and one died.

* * *

Dairu rushed over to his friend, pulling him away from the dead Sobrul Hersar incase the body tried to release a deadly fume like some bodies of Akuma were known to do. The friend of the unknowingly triumphant and sleeping boy simply held him in his lap, his arm supporting his head as he simply muttered a simple congratulations in his language as they all laid in the grass of Iberia, outside the castle from which they fled in terror, somewhat returning now as victors.


	24. Chapter 22

There was a thunderous crash of glass and marble with a yell of surprise from across the hall, in the interior-hall leading from the altar. Allen felt a shadow bellow right past him until it skidded to a stop near a pillar. As he tried to realize what happened, Allen barely had time to react as a large, clawed arm slashed by his head, forcing him to take an evasive duck-and-roll. His Eye spotted about seventeen level two Akuma and four level three's, split into two groups that were attacking from the two separating halls connecting to the main altar room. Allen looked almost frantically for Mikhail: this was no longer safe for him, since there was too little space in here to take them all on at once, and that with the level three's around Yoshimata was in just as much danger as Mikhail. Even when Lenalee was at a point where he was far more experienced than Yoshimata, she still had trouble defeating a single level three that had attacked her and the rest of the Exorcists when they were on their way to fight the Earl in Japan. Allen found Mikhail in the dark; he was trying to wake an unconscious Yoshimata, whom was leaning against a pillar, by shaking him by the shoulders while Lenalee guarded them by engaging the Akuma that were breaching the left-wing. _She has the same idea_, Allen stated as a conclusion in his thoughts, and sprinted over to Mikhail just as he got Yoshimata stirred. "Yoshimata, can you walk?"

He gave a small nod, rubbing his head. "I flinched just enough to avoid a fatal blow." He brought himself to his feet as he re-orientated himself by using Mikhail's uniform, arms and shoulder as willful leverage.

Allen put his hand on his shoulder as a way to try and focus him. "Listen; there are too many powerful Akuma for you to handle now, not at your level of experience." He blinked once to allow the silence to punctuate his reason. "You need to get Mikhail away, as far away as you can from the Akuma, alright?" In a lightning-fast move, Allen's Innocence invocated to its primary, black-clawed form and sliced a catapulted Akuma from a misdirected kick by Lenalee in half with a sickly sound of compromised armor. "We'll handle them here. Circle back when you hide him, now go!" He ran into the right-hall, leaving the two.

Yoshimata backed away slowly, looking from each hall to find an escape. The main-entrance was definitely out of the question; there might have been more Akuma outside waiting from them there. As they stood at the altar, Mikhail had an idea. He tugged on Yoshimata's forearm as an urging motion, leading him off the elevated floor and behind the artwork of the altar to a hidden door, obscured as a service-way for priests. Mikhail grabbed the bronze-knob and tried to open the door, but it was locked. Within a closed space, surrounded by danger that was blocked away from vision but perfectly catching sounds down to the sound of blood-drops decorating the floor, one tends to throw away any reservations they had about getting drastic. Mikhail agreed to this notion, proving so as his booted foot slammed like a battering ram against the obstacle to their one escape route; the door practically splintered as it skidded on the floor with a loud crash.

This crash was echoed immensely by the emptiness of the room it fell into, leading to an audible and loud sound that was almost lost in the swamp of sounds in the fray. However, three Akuma were standing backwards to the altar, stepping back as Lenalee made short deal of four unsuspecting and under-powered attackers. One of the three caught the sound from the various grunts, yells, and miscellaneous battle sounds and let its two fellow demons know it heard the sound, querying about where it came from. The three backed away slowly from Lenalee, as well as trying to avoid Allen. Although the British boy's back was turned, his cloak had made itself known to be quite coherent of its environment by stabbing two unlucky assailants that tried to sneak in from behind. Getting closer was no longer the recommended case, since the white cloak had more then two of those tendrils that resembled coat-tails. The AWOL Akuma climbed over and around the altar like it was some sort of blank wall or play-thing to be ignored, looking instead to the now knocked-down door and its empty frame. The three looked to each other with the same devious grin; they all had the same idea, strangely enough.

The streets were as still and as deathly silent as a bone-yard, the two escapees discovered as they exited the Kazan. Looking around in the vast and empty court-yard to the city that surrounded the cathedral, Yoshimata was presented with multiple ways to go, but each was just as vague as the other. To put the proverbial and practically literal icing on this conundrum, the snow was falling once again and with it came a chilly winter gust armed with renewed vigor from evaporating water in the Gulf of Finland. Having no recourse, the two chose to run in a straight-line across the court-yard, into the parallel jungle of tenets and miscellaneous wares shops, many of them being fairly decayed by poverty and overuse by a booming population. Not far behind were the Akuma whom took to the high-ground to follow their prey like silent stalkers of the night, under the blow of the wind their vocal grunts and movement were covered. Their preys were just below, having no clue to their existence and their encroaching slaughter.

* * *

Yoshimata was never one to have the foresight to look for maps of the area, so he had to follow his basic instinct. Exorcists lacked Allen's Cursed Eye, leaving them to using their instincts as to where their enemy was or where they had to go. Promptly, he lead Mikhail into an alley between two closely-spaced buildings on the sole basis that recollection served that there was a clear opening at the end to the next street, which would lead the two to the hotel. This recollection was bogus, and Yoshimata's instincts are proven now to be about as resourceful as a wet match in a deep, dark cavern, since they had led him and his charge into a dead-end alleyway.

Yoshimata grunted in frustration, while Mikhail held an unnervingly happy look on his face. He stuttered in his voice, "H- Hey, t-t-t-this m-might be a," He stammered incoherently, and then became audible, "a good place to hide in, yes?" The psychotic smile never left his face, even while he kept muttering "Yes" over and over again under his voice in agreement with his own statement, even reverting to the Russian translation as he seemed to stride closer and closer to the end of the alleyway. As Yoshimata looked on him, Mikhail crouched into a corner and began mumbling to himself with his left fist held up to his mouth, his right arm curled around his stomach, whilst rocking himself back and forth in a sort of fetal position.

When Yoshimata's hand gently fell on Mikhail's shoulder, he saw that the officer, despite being of hardy age of about forty or so, was actually on the brink of _weeping_. He tried to inquiry as to why he was like this, and he gathered a fierce- but jaded- response.

"Those were _devils_! They- they weren't human!" He put his hand on his mouth as if he were retching. "They weren't even _animals..._" Mikhail breathed in shakily. "I… I didn't know," he turned his head up apprehensively to look the Exorcist in the eyes. "I didn't know that you, Exorcists, had to fight these, these demons…" He trailed off with the thought as he continued to cycle closer and closer mentally to a total collapse.

Yoshimata sat down next to Mikhail, seeing that he clearly needed some kind of support. He reached inside of his belt's bag and pulled out a spare rag for Mikhail to wipe away his tears. He accepted it earnestly. The tears and cold-sweat were gone after a minute or so of cleaning, and Mikhail was more or less re-composed and listening clearly. Carefully, Yoshimata explained the Akuma as demons that were creations of the enemies of humanity and not just the Christian faith, but every faith on the face of the world. He told him that the mission of the Exorcists was to travel either officially or covertly in and out of the various lands of the world to excavate, fight for, or reclaim the mysterious substances known as Innocence. Although this was mostly true, Yoshimata was just going by what he knew from the introduction given by Komui back in the Black Order Headquarters, as well as a private explanation by Reever.

Mikhail sat in silence, absorbing it all with a shock-opened mind and simple nods for understanding. When Yoshimata finished, the Russian looked down at his feet and stated the most obvious thing that would have come: "I will never tell a single person about this." This was a secret that spanned the world, that nearly defied the laws of physics, matter, _everything._ On top of that, it was being put on the shoulders of teenagers, _children_ to fight these creatures of Hell's fire. Mikhail, on the spot, couldn't even begin to fathom the possible repercussions in the political, military and religious arenas if it ever was revealed, even at this volatile and nationalistic time. He'd rather not be one of the officers in front of the Winter Palace, holding off the mobs of religious fanatics and ethnic separatists as they descended upon him in waves. He, instead, remembered something that he thought that Yoshimata should probably hear. "There is a saying by a man who lived in my local town, near the Black Sea. He had said that God had left a mysterious puzzle for man to solve within the psalms, the Bible, that needed to be brought together and filled with man's gift of knowledge. He said that the Message was…"

He looked down, uncertain. His eyes floated back and forth vertically as he tried to bring the words to proper English. After a moment, Mikhail recited the 'Message', "'Of the paths of the righteous of men, there is that which layeth on all sides by the sins of failures by the selfish and the monstrous tyrannies of evil men. He shall have my blessing, he is in the name of goodwill and alms shepherds the weak through this valley of darkness, for he shall be known as an apostle for his brothers to keep to and the finder of lost children.'" He breathed in that mouthful, "'I will, in return for his sacrifices, strike down upon with great vengeance and furious redemption those who attempts to sicken and destroy his brothers, and thou shalt know my name is the Lord when I lay down my vengeance upon thee.'" He shook his head, a look of solemn realization upon him. "I never paid any mind to that sort of made-up sermon, since my parents always told me that the word of God is to the point and complete. But, by seeing you and the… Exorcists fight, I would have to say that this quote could very well describe you all."

There was a silence between them, whereas Yoshimata's blue eyes and Mikhail's brown seemed to stare into each others for the longest time; a silently haunting moment for the two that seemed to hollow out the wall that may have stood between them. The moment stood for but only a minute, until Mikhail's eyes trailed off to gaze behind Yoshimata into the street outside the alley. Then, he shook like he did before, with the same pale complexion of undeniable fear. Yoshimata held his shoulder, asking "What's wrong?" He looked into his eyes again, and followed them to a point _behind_ him. He turned, and standing like a newly-erected wall of armor blocking the reflected light of the snow was a level-two Akuma. Rising to his feet slowly, Yoshimata began to try and put a sort of distance between the blood-thirsty beasts and the shocked man.

"Hello, Exorcist." The beast growled. "I would tell you to get out of our way if you want to live…" It took a step forward, its shadow continuing to grow in length and size as it super-imposed itself upon the only slightly larger alley entrance. A tongue appeared from its mouth, slurping its way across the jaw's sharp teeth in reviling hunger. "… but that would be lying, wouldn't it?"

Another voice called down from above, revealing a descending spider-like Akuma that was moving with eight large legs that were instinctively catching on every edge on the climb-down. "Don't be an idiot! We would _never_ spare him, Exorcist or not." It lifted its front-left leg, pointed shakily between both prey, "The only reason we're going after you is because you're just a pip-squeak compared to those two monsters back at the cathedral."

The voice trailed off on that thought. The snow fell slowly down like holy ciders from a sky obscured by a huge, burning fire on an opposite world parallel to ours. These ciders were holy in the way that they did not burn when they fell, but they cooled and melted upon contact with human skin. A beautiful covering for the ground that was always out of reach of those of the living but paid no mind to collecting on the stone-cold armor of the Akuma. Yoshimata held his arms forward and out, letting out a reluctant and unsteady breath, and muttered one word: "Invocation." His Innocence activated and lit up the entire alley-way, the natural darkness of the night blotted out by the energy it released.

The spider-like Akuma screeched, "Kill him!" And the first demon in the entrance to the alley charged as quickly as it could. Mikhail screamed in terror, holding his head between his legs, and Yoshimata began to slouch down as the demon's huge arm rose and fell to strike them down with the force given to it by the charge. Fifteen feet. Ten feet. Yoshimata merely crouched further, his right arm hooking back slightly as his eyes locked on to the rampaging demon closing in on him merely feet away.

Five feet. Three feet. One foot away from his prey, the Akuma's arm fell upon the humans. Yoshimata's right arm slammed into it, releasing a small cloud of steam from the differing temperatures of the heated energy in the Innocence, and the Akuma's cold and unheated armor-skin. The level two growled harshly in pain, sliding slightly on the snow as it tried to halt itself from getting any closer. They exchanged ten blows, exactly: the Akuma made the advances, while Yoshimata countered them as quickly as he could despite being obviously smaller than his opponent and limited on human sight. He flipped, blocking from every angle as he utilized his hand-to-hand martial-arts for the use of his Innocence. He moved almost fluidly with the Akuma, parrying its thrusts and dodging its heaviest lunges.

He was doing this all on his feet, for practically one of the first times. Before, he relied on basic moves to get him around with his Innocence. He never before realized the potential of combining his personal training with his power; or, rather, he had never felt that he was able to do it. Though the heat emitted was noticeable to others, he barely even noticed it until one day, when he was able to activate his Innocence on his own. He went on in a childish sort of way, trying to figure out how to use it like he would his regular human fists until he tripped over and the arm scorched both his left pants leg and nearly burned open the skin underneath. It took him weeks to recover from that mistake, and since then the idea of stylizing his fighting technique hadn't occurred to him until he saw Lenalee fight with hers against Dairu. This inspired him to ask her about it on the train to Saint Petersburg.

Lenalee's face seemed a little surprised that Yoshimata had asked her a question out of no-where. It was night-time, and Allen was fast asleep beside her. Before, Yoshimata was simply looking out to the star-riddled sky somewhere near the northern-most border in the Governorate of Estonia, well into Russian lands by now and days into their travel. "I use my Innocence so freely because I know that while I might become injured in the fight, it's better to have a broken leg then to be dead entirely." She looked to Allen, and muttered, "I'm here to protect my friends, my brother, and myself. If it means doing the most suicidal, the most impossible things, then I am ready to do them."

Yoshimata strafed to the right of the Akuma and pressed its shoulder with his left arm. This caused the beast to lose balance and, since Yoshimata's Innocence generated heat and a _lot_ of snow was melting to form puddles of cold water, slipping its head right into the Exorcist's waiting right hand. The body fizzled, and stopped its deathly throes after a few seconds of twitching uncontrollably as its mouth seemed to try and swallow the holy substance. The corpse slid off his arm with a sickly slurp and a bodily fall to the ground in a splash of blood that he was sure to avoid mixed with the melted snow. Yoshimata planted his boots firmly on the ground, his breathing steady and controlled as he faced two more Akuma before him.

The spider-like one that watched the entire thing like a chandelier hanging on an invisible ceiling above was in absolute shock, its face contorted with the emotions of surprise and rage. "H- How?" It hissed, "How is it possible that _you_, a puny child, could fight _us_?" Its body shook with its bottled-up emotions and lost control to its allowed-instincts programmed into it: destruction. The spider fell down from thirty feet above with the speed of a dropped anvil, and reached the ground in less than two seconds. Yoshimata had managed to move barely out of the way of the falling shadow. The ground shook and belched in protest to the impact, and soon the demon was covered in its partner's blood and the mud of the street like a coat of dye. This ferocious beast stood on two backward legs, and to its front came six long, sharpened appendages that now served as six individual weapons to an eight-foot tall bipedal slaughter-machine. It whirled forward, its legs stabbing back and forth through the air as it moved forward in a controlled-fall to carve up Yoshimata. He retreated frantically as the claws grew closer and closer until one stabbed him in the right thigh, pulled through by simply blowing to the left and carving out a nice piece of his pants-leg and flesh, and one more whacked him across the face with a nice, clean slice on his cheek under his left eye. This tripped him off his feet in a sort of backwards roll that left him in the mud, face-down.

Mikhail screamed, "Yoshimata!" And he reached for his side-arm in its holster. It unclipped from the leather-pocket and fell its iron-sights upon the spider's head and fired two shots. One sparked against its collar, while the other wedged itself into the side of the beast's head, in a crevasse of symmetrically-formed curves on the armor that made the Akuma's skin natural. The spider screamed in surprise and pain, falling back-wards from reversed momentum. It sprawled itself inward, cursing epithets simultaneously in English and another language that seemed too far from anything close to Europe or Asia. The Akuma slashed at the alley-way with its bottom-four legs in contrived protest, slicing the dirt which splashed the mud, and stabbed into the brick-walls that nearly encased the three. Mikhail crawled backwards as a right-leg of the spider nearly whacked his upper-torso clean off. The officer whispered, his eyes filling with tears of desperation and hopelessness, "Help… please!"

* * *

Block, thrust, parry, dodge, destroy. This fight turned into a cycle of trying to fight back and forth against the individual Akuma for Allen and Lenalee, even though they were powerful in their own rights as Exorcists. They both knew that if they damaged the cathedral too much, they would face severe consequences for the damages upon the architecture. Allen's sword blocked a level three's claws, holding the sword with the back of his hand facing forward, and the length of the sword piercing to the right. This stance was easily weak in strength, but Allen remedied this with a simplistic chop that slid off the claws and into the level three's body In an explosion of blood, the sword fell to the cathedral's marble floor and cracked open the pavement. Allen nearly shrieked"Shit!" with his accidental desecration of God's holy altar's plain.

The corpse slandered the ground with blood and bits of armor in a morbid foray. This decorated the ground in a way so lovely along side its twelve fellows in an orgy of death. Lenalee ran to the middle of the room with a loss of breath, causing Allen to spin skillfully around and immediately come to her side. The boy kneeled down as he cautiously guarded Lenalee against a follow-up attack, but it seemed the remaining six of their enemies didn't desire a continued confrontation with them in the pond of their relative acquaintances. Lenalee gasped finally and told Allen, "We need to find the Innocence, I don't think I can keep holding myself back like this." Allen felt the same way; the strain on leashing their powerful and quickest attacks in this entire place was tearing him down, but every time he tried to run for the door another Akuma blocked his path.

He whispered to Lenalee, "We need to get out together. Look to the west wing; we could get out if you can carry me out the broken window on the far end of the hall-way." His grip on his sword nearly slipped as his fatigue made it difficult to hold onto his blade's hilt. He continued, "You don't need to worry about fighting after, I have an idea to handle them all." Lenalee got to her feet after steadying herself with a firm hand on Allen's shoulder, and focused her inner energy towards levitating herself. The beasts, all level two's without a surviving member of the level three cadre, ran from their positions and leaped to attack the two. Lenalee quickly wrapped her arms around Allen, below the armpits and around his collar from her point behind his back. The Dark Boots surged with left-over power as Lenalee lifted the Brit off the floor and into the air from the anti-conventional energy that the Innocence produced to nullify gravity to certain measures around Lenalee and, by proxy, Allen. They flew clear across the way with the Akuma closing in behind as Lenalee began to tire out, only losing sight of them for a second as they breached the glassless window-sill.

Her breaths grew ragged to short, and she gasped "Allen, I-", they both fell down from about twelve feet, crashing onto the cobble-stoned courtyard.

Puffs of humid air blossomed from every breath they exhaled due to the icy air, and their wounds sharpened in intensity from the frost. The beasts burst from the unbroken windows, preferring to make a bigger mess than to take an easier way out of a simplistically open-doored cathedral. The Akuma were no longer organized in a pattern of attack, rather, they were simply jumping for what seemed to be wounded prey sitting politely to be devoured. Allen's head swirled with confusion as his Eye registered and tracked the Akuma around him, until he finally got control of himself as they leaped all at once. "Lenalee, get down!" He yelled and held her closer to his body as he covered both himself and her with his Crown Clown cloak. He closed his eyes, yelling firmly and directly to his Innocence, "Angelic Layer!" His Innocence responded immediately by retracting the sharp ends of his coat-tails and propelling them, still connected to the cloak, through the air until they were nearly three inches thick for over twenty meters. In short, each of those tails hit their marks on the five Akuma, collapsing them to the ground without any of their harsh, evil lives left to even cause a splinter of pain. With that, Allen released his desperate grip on Lenalee's head against the flat of his chest, and he thus forward gave in to the temporary release of brief unconsciousness.

* * *

The spider's screams lessened as it removed its appendages away from its wounds. The bullets were too low of calibre to pierce the armor, but the shells managed to lodge themselves in and leave piercing wounds. The beast hissed, "You've just made the last mistake of your life, human." It up-righted itself on hind-legs once more and practically threw itself towards Mikhail with all intentions of slaughter. The space between the six leg-spears and Mikhail's skin lessened and lessened until there was barely a yard left to speak of. Only then, at the last second, did Yoshimata's right hand shoved the spider's head and his left arm shoving the spider's left leg into its right, against the brick wall. The sharp talon from the left appendage stabbed thoroughly into the wall, being consumed until there was only so much femur in the open air. The spider promptly screamed in pain as there was a hissing cloud of steam appearing from both the trochanter and the left-side of its head.

"Stay away from him, you filthy spider." Yoshimata whispered, his eyes planted against the trapped beast. He spoke out loud to his companion, "Get back from here, Mikhail. I can't guarantee you'll be safe if you're this close." Mikhail obliged him and quickly gathered himself to a deeper part of the alley. As soon as he was a yard away, Yoshimata pulled the spider bodily from the wall and delivered a calculated kick to its torso.

The Akuma lost its wits to the blow, feeling groggy after being pulled so quickly from the wall only to be met with a kick. However, this daze gave only a temporary solace from the terrible burns from the Exorcists' Innocence. Its longest, left arm was almost melted through to its inner workings, and the spider's head was scorching and bubbling on the upper-left, the eye nearly destroyed. "You rotten little brat!" It screeched at the top of its lungs, and re-used its old-hat tactic of running straight forward in obvious stupidity and blind-rage. They engaged in the same back and forth of parrying and blocking, only Yoshimata's attacks were slowly tearing the beast's arms to shreds as the Innocence they touched began to gradually corrode its skin. Realizing this, the beast changed tactics and revealed a secret weapon: it fired a long, stringed shot of green-tinted web of web from its abdomen's spinnerets. The green string almost collided with Yoshimata's face, only dodging it at the last moment to see it fling towards a wall and dissolve the parts it splattered. Yoshimata returned the favor and delivered a strong punch from his right fist to the spider's face, backing it into a wall. In finale, Yoshimata stabbed his left hand into its chest, killing it practically instantly. The spider's corpse fell to the ground, twitched once, and faded away in spirit.

From the corner, Mikhail used the walls to get up from his hiding spot. His face twitched into a smile, a small chuckle growing from his throat into a beautifully relieved cackle. "That's not possible, in any sense of the saying!" He ran over to Yoshimata and grabbed his shoulder in stunned congratulations as he nearly ran over his English with excitement. "You were fantastic, you managed to kill those two huge beasts!" Mikhail began to really take a look upon Yoshimata's face, and soon recognized that he wasn't as exuberant as he was, but… sad. Mourning, almost. He tightened his grip on his shoulder, and tried to get his attention. "Are you well?" Yoshimata's dour face turned, but sad nothing in return. The face only reacted when, beside both of them, the corpse began to crack open around its wounds. Out of these cracks came steady, small streams of purple gas that began to speed up as the cracks continued to grow upon the skin.

Yoshimata suddenly yelled, "Move!" and tackled Mikhail towards the street outside. In the alley, the corpse exploded with such destructive force that it forced the opening of the other corpse beside it, which promptly also exploded into the same gaseous cloud. Yoshimata almost dragged Mikhail away from the alley before the man protested, trying to stop him and ask as to what happened. Answering, "Most of these beasts contain a sort of blood-steam within them that soon explodes into a cloud of deadly gas that could kill you if you inhaled any of it. It comes from their blood, I'm told."

Mikhail paused, his face completely frozen from that paralyzing fact. "They couldn't have possibly have gotten any worse, yet when you kill them, they can kill you with their _blood?_" He shook his head as he put his head down to his gloves in exhasperation. "I should've never taken this assignment. The extra rubles are not worth this, not at all."

As he looked upon his peer and his regrets, Yoshimata turned back to the alley where he slayed the two Akuma. _Wait… two?_ He could faintly remember there being three of those beasts: the spider appearing from the roof, and the two others that stood at ground-level at the door-way. The one he felled was far from description, whilst the other seemed to have the outline of a humongous human being. This caused a sudden pang of cautiousness as Yoshimata turned around in the street, seeing beyond the Russian merchants and peasants that had exited their homes to survey the explosion in the streets below. He looked to the roofs, to the street around them and back again to the alley, but it was not here nor there! He kneeled down to the Russian, whom stayed where he was dragged, "Sir, did you see the third Akuma that stayed outside?"

The Russian officer lifted his head from his hands, and replied with "No. He- it ran away as soon as the second demon was killed.. It ran…" He gasped in complete realization, getting up from the street. "It ran back for the Kazan!" But he settled, "But why would it go back there?"

Yoshimata blinked, trying to put the pieces together as to the sudden cowardice of a machine bent on murder and pain. _If an Akuma isn't serving its desire for destruction, then what else does it serve?_ It came to his mind instantly with that question in his thoughts: The Earl. The given-mission of the Akuma is to fetch the Innocence from where ever it lies, and if the Akuma gave up its desire to join the blood-baths of the alley and the cathedral, it _must_ be going to do its inscripted job! "We have to go back, right now! We cannot let it steal the Innocence!"

* * *

Allen got up from the street, rubbing his head. He saw that Lenalee was watching over him, and he gave a small smile before he asked, "How long was I out?"

Returning the smile with her own, Lenalee responded "For a few minutes. You were too heavy for me to move far, so I took you from the snow and put you where I could." Allen nodded in acceptance, and she moved on. "That was a very smart move to do, Allen. You took out all of those Akuma and managed to keep the Cathedral intact in the process." She gave a deeper smile.

For some reason, the smile seemed to almost sparkle to Allen; it warmed him up from the deep cold supplied by the environment around him. Suddenly, the snow meant nothing to him anymore, but he couldn't tell why. All he could do is feel the warmth on his cheeks and give a strained "Thank you" as he began to pick himself up from the ground. Allen shook off the feeling as just a bout brought on by the cold, and tried to stretch out some tight muscles in his back. He immediately wished he had not upon the prospect of feeling more bruises than he could possibly handle at the moment. Cringing and nearly losing his footing, save not for Lenalee giving him some balance with a good hold on his sleeve, he began to walk forward before his Eye appeared to life once more and informed him of an incoming Akuma. He turned toward the incoming offender, as did Lenalee, and saw an ever-growing beast charging towards the cathedral with both Yoshimata and Mikhail close in tow. All the two could afford to do was watch as the demon straddled upon a pillar on the west-end of the building and began to climb.

Yoshimata was close behind, driving himself forward despite a glaring wound in his leg. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out what remained of a tattered rope, the end of where the hook should have been mysteriously missing. "Damnit, it must have been ripped off in the fight!" He unbuttoned his jacket quickly, reaching for a pocket on the inside lining and pulled a knife from it. He tied the spare rope around the hand-hold grip and tossed it with as much accuracy as he could. This toss was successful, wrapping a tight grip around the Akuma's collar and neck. In response, the beast began to try and scratch off the rope, but could not manage to cut the material as the Exorcist began to shimmy his way up.

To Allen's surprise Yoshimata's grip on the rope did not falter despite the struggle, growing ever closer to the beast. He saw from this distance that as his companion continued his obviously fool-hearty climb, the beast became more and more desperate to get him off. _It's like it's afraid of him._ He looked to his Innocence-laced arm, seeing that it had been coerced by Lenalee back into its regular form instead of its released-sword form. He looked to it, and then to the Akuma and calculated the odds of himself doing something completely rash and succeeding. He contemplated them, and came to the conclusion that his idea was not nearly as insane as his fellows', most likely suffering from his fatigue to the point that common sense was nonsense, so he went ahead with it: he invocated his Innocence and immediately pushed it to the one-hundredth percentage so that the Sword of Exorcism would transform his arm. He immediately took the handle and pulled the sword out so that it flung back behind his back in preparation for a long throw. He yelled as far as he could, trying desperately to project his voice across the courtyard: "Yoshimata, watch out!" And he launched the sword.

Yoshimata looked quickly to his left, hearing a familiar British-accented voice yelling to him. He could faintly see two figures standing in the distance, but what concerned him more was a giant slab of metal hurling toward him at who knows how much speed. He abandoned the beast he was quarreling with by putting his feet upon its shoulders and leaped his way to the roof. Before the Akuma could yell an obscenity against this act, it was immediately pelted with the sword and flung off the cathedral's pillar and onto the ground nearly sixteen feet away from a several metre drop and crushing the cobble stones in a hurrah of focused sediment. Yoshimata fell backwards in both relief and in a stalled reaction to the attack, but was further beckoned by another voice, this one audible and closer, "Do not stop for nothing! You must reach the glowing object at the top!" The broken English from Mikhail got its point across to Yoshimata, and it drove him to continue his way cautiously towards the top.

The only reason Yoshimata's leg wasn't bleeding in a practical river of blood was because of Mikhail, whom gave the Exorcist his belt as a token of appreciation in the form of a make-shift tourniquet. _I really need to thank him once I get down_, the thought panged across his mind while he reached the top of the cathedral, the base of the dome on the very apex of the roof. Finally, after all of this time of searching for the Order, all of the bruises and broken bones he had to endure to reach this roof-top, Yoshimata was finally going to fulfill his duty. He crouched for balance as he closed in on the shining object that seemed precariously drilled into the solid marble-cement combination of a top, and activated his own Innocence to make sure he didn't hurt himself by touching it. He reached inside the cement, his heart pounding through his chest. Grabbing hold of what seemed to be a circular object, he quickly placed the trinket to his chest and quickly made his way down from the roof of the Cathedral, not daring to spoil the moment by looking at it alone. Below, Allen, Lenalee and Mikhail were all waiting patiently until the very last piece of rope was traversed. Yoshimata held his hands out to reveal…

… A shining rock that was covered in what seemed to be a shiny, reflective powder that coated the stone. Yoshimata's face was one of absolute pride and joy, holding out the stone as if it were a fairy caught in a cage from a mid-summer night's chase in the wood. However, Allen just had to ruin this prideful joy with an interjection. "That isn't an Innocence." The face blinked and collapsed faster than a neutron star.

"It- it isn't?" He whispered meekly.

Shaking his head, Allen replied "No; it seems it might be a rock that fell from the stars." He held it up and examined it towards what little light that was breaching through the clouds, "In theory, it's absolutely pointless to this mission, but I think that some of the people on the payroll of the Black Order would like to be able to see it." He looked back to the object's savior, and saw that he was being held up by Mikhail, visibly and comically shattered by that revelation.

They led themselves back to the hotel, and all of them simply fell asleep in the tiny hotel room. Even Mikhail, not part of the mission at all and thus having no business to fall asleep there, collapsed with them separately on the couch after he set Yoshimata down to sleep off this completely horrific, yet surviving winter's night in Saint Petersburg.


	25. Chapter 23

The missions from all across the European landscape were over, and the new trainees proved themselves as valuable assets one by one. Sami Hanna's exploits against the serial-killing Akuma in Paris were reported by a letter forwarded from Lavi to the Finder Network, which eventually linked back to the Black Order Headquarters in England. Shortly after that letter arrived, another came in from the Netherlands about Yoko Kyoukan's triumph, and the securing of an Innocence in a Belgian chocolate factory. For some strange reason, there was a request for the removal of a full-body adhesive that was obtained on the mission, but the substance was never specified. Reever shook this off and continued on with retailing the Letters of Order, sent in by the local Finders in specific countries. Out from an outpost in Konigsberg in the German Empire, a letter came in stating that Allen Walker, Lenalee Lee and Yoshimata Hakitawa were on their way back from the nether-regions of the Russian Empire. There was no letter sent from the mission in Iberia, but that hardly worried Reever; there was probably just some problem getting the three Exorcists some transportation. It always happens, now and again. He, in the back of his mind, heard breathing from behind him, and turned around to meet the curious face of Johnny. Startled at first, Reever soon composed himself and inquired as to why he was looking over his shoulder.

Johnny seemed a bit nervous, telling from the amount of apprehension in his voice. "Well, it's just that I'm curious as to how the missions went. We all are, in the Science Department, since only Komui usually gets to review these reports from the Finders."

Raising his eyebrow in suspicion, Reever pressured him further with insistence, "Is that all?"

Johnny sort of blushed, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. "Not really," He trailed on. "We all wanted to know how to the new recruits are doing. The older scientists in the Order used to tell us that newest Exorcist recruits almost always are the first ones to die in their first missions, especially if their missions range far from Europe." His face grew a tad more upset with the emotions swirling inside of his mind, "And we just sent them off so easily! We didn't give them any time to work on their fighting techniques or even to get used to their weapons at all! They just walked in here, stayed for a week, and then we sent them off to a set of pending missions that had been in the queue!" He took off his glasses and rubbed his forehead of perspiration with his sleeve, but the lab-coat was not very absorbent, nor was the idea itself very polite.

Reever promptly took a handkerchief from his pocket and presented it to his colleague, whom accepted it with grace to wipe his stress away. Once Johnny composed himself, the Acting-Director laid down what he considered to be the honest truth. "I hate the idea that we have to send kids out there to do the jobs of adults, but we can't help it that way." He gave a befuddled shrug. "They were given these powers by either God or nature, but either way that doesn't change the urgency of this matter. Most of the Innocence in the world has been founded in the last three decades or so, mostly by the two generations of Exorcists we have now. We will need the Exorcists whom are either born with, or are compatible with, these Innocence's to be able to hold our own against the Noah and the Earl. We all know the consequences of failure." He swiveled towards his desk and took out a few files from the pile on his desk, seemingly placed there out of a need to constantly check on something inside of them. "Besides all of that, these new Exorcists are some of the most prospective we've seen in a while, probably even since Allen." He unfolded them like a cards-master in his hand, showing the names scribbled on the manila folders. "Yoko Kyoukan is a former Greek royal guard for the Princess, decorated for honors of service that has included most of her life. Dairu Gottschalk is part of a family line of Ottoman Turkish Janissaries, elite warriors, and was in the process of training as per his family customs. Two with military training, right there." He put the two folders down, three remaining. Picking up another, "Yoshimata Hakitawa has shown his, although apprehensive, use of martial-arts and hand-to-hand combat against Allen, an experienced Exorcist, and managed to match him on his first try! This could be contributed to Allen's holiday time, but the fact that Yoshimata was injured in the leg and was still able to take on an albeit at-rest Allen is quite an accomplishment. Joseph and Sami refused to give out their own histories, but the fact stands as so that the majority of these kids have had some sort of combat training." He brought his eyes to bear with Johnny's and gave his best to make his voice sound the most comforting, "Don't worry so much about what those old men say; they'll be just fine as long as they keep on their toes."

Johnny seemed to try and find another argument against this, but he could muster none. So, he simply gave an accepting nod and gave his bids for a good slumber for the night.

When the door was closed behind Johnny, Reever gave out a sigh of relief from such a tension-filled moment. That fact-listing was from his own concerned search for information on the new-comers not only from their official, off-sight interviews with Kumoi, but also from what records that could be found publicly by different British and Finder informants. _Other than what we've been able to turn up right there, we might not know all there is to know about them_ He leaned backwards and closed his eyes. _Chief, do you think that we should learn more about these kids?_

* * *

A storm brewed within the Mediterranean, with a violent yawn of life it brought its cataclysmic power down upon the Isola del Giglio by the waves of the Tyrrhenian Sea. The island was located off the coast of Tuscany with a negligible local population that kept to the coast-lands, mostly uninterested in the happenings of the interior. From what the locals have heard and been told by government officials, there was a total and thorough survey for any resources or intriguing artifacts and architecture in the sparse pine forests, but all have officially turned up with nothing but common flora and fauna. Officially. Unofficially, within the forest was a manor guarded by several men in gala uniform. At the gates, six out of eight men were standing guard armed with halberds to supplement what seemed to be ceremonial-only rapier straight sabres, while the two other guards that were standing in front of the six with three at both sides of the gate were armed with bolt-action Carcano rifles. They were pious men, all, being uniformed guardsmen within the Corps of the Pontifical Swiss Guard to the Holy See, and they were specially selected for this one assignment: protecting the Directors of the Black Order Branches.

Inside of the manor, deep within its heavily patrolled corridors and simplistically furnished rooms, there was a door locked from brass hinge to brass hinge on its heavy mahogany frame. It guarded a room filled with various men, and even a woman, in white uniforms. Due to budgetary constraints and the lack of qualified or willing personnel, many of these peoples held multiple jobs in the branches they led. For example, Komui Lee was both the leading officer in the Black Order European Branch, also the head-quarters of the Order, and was put in charge of the Science Department due to his aptitude for construction and invention. The table they were gathered around was made of oak long since carved away from its tree and crafted with precisely placed cuts from carpenters, yet the wood they sat around and the craftsman's knives would never compare to the emotionally dead and characteristically sharp eyes of Malcom C. Leverier. He had ensquared the table twice once every Branch Director had taken their seat, and then took his own seat at its head. The storm's mighty reverberations echoed throughout the halls, all the way into the secluded and windowless room to seemingly march in beat with the man's footfalls.

Malcolm cleared his throat with a deft cough and gave himself permission to begin the conclusive meeting. "The Vatican has, for about thirty years, established a formalized Peter's Pence to fund the Black Order's activities. As you all remember, or at least know from word of textbook and mouth, the Papal States were occupied by the Sardinians in their 'war of unification'. So now, we cannot rely on the support of a wide-spread and centralized population to line the Holy See's economic bank-vaults." He leaned forward with his hands serving as a bony, pale-white cushion for his sharp chin. "Over the centuries since the establishment of the Catholic Church, the Vatican has kept funding of the 'Secular Sciences Divisions' to a strict flow. This includes the hiring of current inventors that have made significant break-throughs behind the scenes of the public eye. We have paid these magnificently intelligent individuals to keep their silence on their discoveries that we would rather keep under our control. This, of course, is under the contract that their discoveries would be laid out for either their 'real-time discovery' by themselves in the future, or by their later ancestors." Malcolm gave an exhasperated sigh of seemingly thorough frustration. "This, coupled with the fact that the Banks of the Vatican are basically cut off from further advancement of the Peter Pence because of the spread of Protestantism to many Catholic regions or potential colonies of Roman Catholic-orientated nations leads us to this conclusion: the Black Order and the Vatican face bankruptcy within the coming years, and eventually the defaulting of the Catholic Church."

The silence consumed the room as if the waves that once moved with the man they heeded to by force were now with the silence and filling the room to the core in an effort to stifle any chances of even a pin-drop bounce bringing any notice. Mansah Desmarais of the West African Branch leaned forward to show his dark, damp skin from the rain and humidity glistening, as well as to ask of a question. "What will happen to the Black Order if this 'default' happens, Monsieur Leverier?" He rubbed the cross on the wrist-bracelet that honored his left arm. He spoke with a French-Akan accent, obviously from looks and mannerisms out of place in this elitist caste of Europeans.

Malcolm looked to Mansah with a sort of glance that one would give if they were to suddenly notice something visibly or presently repugnant in the room, but was trying by stature and practice to hide any sort of notable disgust. "Then we will have two options: cut down all Order activities, including any and all technologies or private funding to inventors despite the ramifications of the lack of sponsored scientific discoveries to the incoming century. The future generations of our," His voice became cautious as he was talking directly to Mansah before he looked to the rest of the council and continued, "kind must be equipped with these technologies to both increase transit between countries, but also to allow for rapid deployment of Exorcists to each and every empire, nation, continent and quarry around the world. For every year towards what we would never know to be our Judgment Day at the hands of this heretic, the attacks and slaughters by Noah and Akuma alike will simply grow in morbidity, while our Exorcists would be left with current technologies that would simply force them to be in the position of facing either overwhelming odds, or to be left with the blame of such events." His fingers fell to the table lightly and brushed the top as if trying to reconfigure the universe from the seat of God. Malcolm looked to Komui Lee of the Headquarters branch with a slight flare of curiosity in his stare. "Komui, I have received your filed reports that we have a new group of Exorcists within the Black Order." His hands met, still upon the table, and cupped themselves. "What have they told you about themselves?"

Komui seemed surprised by the question, but recovered and responded, "They have let us know their basic personal information, but I'm afraid we have no response as to background history outside of one of them, a Miss Yoko Kyokan." He gave out a small shrug of disappointment, "They have reserved their right to keep their background histories a mystery, and we chose to respect their wishes." Komui seemed to wait in hesitation, knowing full-well of Malcolm's terms on even the slightest mishap. He wanted information, he got information. He wanted gold, he got gold. What Malcolm wants, it's what Malcolm gets. No exceptions.

However, despite this denial of appraise in information, Malcolm gave an equally small quirk of admission and simply closed his eyes in a down-ward motion to the table. "Very well, then. Let us continue on from this subject to the matter of our missing director." This turned the entire room's attention to the vacated chair between the South American Branch Director and the chair of Mansah Desmarais, Director of the small but humble West African Branch. "Has anyone received any letter from our dearest North American Branch as to why their director is absent? Director Lola Delgado despite his most humbling of circumstances of facing a terrible storm on his way still made the trip; why does Director Alders scorn us so?"

Once again Komui was called to the front-line for facing Malcolm, since he did have a legitimate reason for this transgression. "We were unfortunate enough to lack the foresight that the new motorized ship would break down when it got exactly to the Bay of Chesapeake. Since this ship was practically off on training-runs and not in full-proof form to require other Branches to carry identical parts or specialists trained to handle these types of situations. So, she simply sent a message via a rationed golem to us and asked for assistance in repairing the vehicle. That, within itself, will take about a month to perform."

Malcolm's eyebrow rose in query, retorting, "Why did she not leave on a scheduled time like the other directors? She surely must have had plenty of time to use regular transportation?"

Komui shook his head. "Naomi-" He caught himself, about to address her by her first-name as a friend, not as an associate, and shook his head to show his undeniable regret on the mistake. "I'm sorry; I mean, Director Alders was busying herself with tracking down the group of Exorcists that had traveled, peculiarly together, to the United States by undocumented means. She had rathered that she would look for these potential recruits for the Exorcists than to attend this meeting, since she saw that if she left her post for even a week, then the American Finders would have had an even harder time tracking their targets down. It seemed that they were always on the move to her, so she decided that she would keep a close eye on them until she had finally lost all results of progression, which happened in Louisiana when the group had somehow disappeared into the local forests. It was at this point that it was decided by Director Alders to request the European Headquarters' help, due to the fact that Akuma had been sighted in the last known trajectory of their arrival and she had worried that something may have happened."

Malcolm listened as before, but showed no sign of his usual bureaucratic sternness, nor his natural aristocratic way of disapproving every thing the directors did. He simply gave another nod at the end and let out a sigh. It was as simple as a sigh could get, easily executed and not for a second halted for any reason. "Fine. Just inform her of the possible consequences for the second failure of attendance." The meeting room was simply stunned by his composed demeanor. Usually, Malcolm threw his Vatican Weight around far more than a mentally unstable man would say "hm" and "uh". He was of the Leveriers', known as one of the first politically and economically powerful families to support the Black Order's existence. The very fact he was being courteous was a shocking revelation to the rest of the directors, even prompting Director Bak Chan to almost get out of his seat to call for medical attention for Malcolm.

* * *

The meeting went on as this pace, but Malcolm seemed to recede from the main stage of the table in terms of discussion, only giving his approval or disapproval per simplistic responses. When the meeting was over, all of the directors left promptly to go about their business in the rest of the huge house. Malcolm had kept behind, still seated in where he was for the longest time. The door closed with a creaking hinge and lock, and the footsteps faded away like apparitions into the darkness. When the silence was total once more, he gave two solid knocks that echoed through the room, and he beckoned with a call of his voice. "Howard, come out of hiding; they're all gone."

With that sly move of his personality, the wall behind him gave way to a slide into the perpendicular wall to reveal a large, hidden room. Inside, several listening devices of the current century were being employed, and all around them there was a transcript to the noted letter of every word the directors said. "The transcript is completed, sir."

Malcolm sat up and nodded listlessly with a seemingly characteristically malice-filled grin. He moved strictly to the transcript on a table situated in a way that it would fit just perfectly against the two unmoving walls, and its left side upon the compartment-door. His vision slithered like a cobra over the transcript until his eyes came to a stop upon about five minutes in. "Komui told us that he has absolutely no information on the new recruits for the Exorcists. Is this true?"

With a solemn sigh and a shake of his head, Howard sat down in the chair that he had been cooped up in for the last hour. "He was lying, to an extent. I have checked throughout the British Imperial Educational Documentary for any internships by any of them into British-monitored or owned schools throughout the Empire. We have recorded a slew of instances for one "Yoshimata Hakitawa" taking courses in the British Raj, although in different regions in a seemingly west-ward motion." Howard took out a map from his desk drawer, which was of the aforementioned British Empire on the Indian continent. "Here is the first recorded instance of him taking up charitable public education, here in Rajshahi of the Bengal Presidency. Although the city was devestated about a year or so ago by the earthquake of 1897, some missionaries and free-lance public-colonial schools continued on. There, they taught many primary-school subjects and even the benefits of the English language. He must have learned his beginnings there for Western culture, albeit confusingly." His Lord gave him a confused eye-brow raise, so Howard continued on, "He somehow managed to skim through several of the grades with relative ease. There have been reports from other contacts within the Headquarters' Branch that he, in particular, seems one of the most awkward of the group. This leads me to the conclusion that while he _may_ have been educated, he must have continued on from school district to school district under the misconception of being a British-Indian national. So, he learned from one school about one subject, then went on to discover something entirely different in another."

This caused Malcolm to look down and rub his chin in perplexity. "So, he's either a genius or a lucky imbecile. Very interesting." He raised his head slightly, cocking towards Howard. "Continue. Is there any other information on him?"

Howard nodded. "He, as I stated before, continued on a westward motion towards Europe, although he never signed any documents for legal citizenship. The last documents are a farewell from an Indian harbor-master in Jiwani, whom detailed an Eastern-Asian boy launching from the port, going from island to island and along the coast of South-Eastern and South-Western Arabia until he reached British Somaliland." He rubbed his head in confusion and shock. "There is no way this is possible at all. Minor documents paint a trail all the way from Jiwani to Somaliland and all the way to the Suez Canal, sir." He looked up in deeper confusion, this divulsion bothering him further to no end. "This boy must have had an arguious journey, crossing the seas by what was seemed to have been on a rickety raft. A _raft_!" He shook again and let the last paper fall. "After that, he just goes off the map. No more reports about him. We need to have a deeper investigation into him, sir! He is an enigma and a mystery!"

This seemed to surprise the tall, statue of a bureaucrat. "You're very enthusiastic about this outsider. He's from the East, yet you seem to act like he's your long-lost brother come home." He leaned forward with an ever-so-slight movement of his back bending downwards. "Why, though?"

_I'm acting out…?_ The German-Prussian young-adult tried to comprehend this out of his moment of grandeur enthusiasm. He recomposed himself within his chair and cleared his throat; his face was glowing red from his blushing. With his face warm to the point of weeping, Howard kept his ripe emotions under wraps. "My apologies, my Lord. I was acting merely out of inherited social grace from my stay at the Headquarters." He tried to look his master in the eye. "It will not happen again, please rest assured."

His attempt at meeting his master eye-to-eye failed miserably, for the man's mustachioed face soon zoomed in from bending over closer to him. "You had best make sure of that, 'Herr' Link." His condescending tone was received as merely a chiding tone to Howard, whom immediately bowed his head and mumbled his apologies like a well-trained choir boy within the Sunday school. "Now, inform me of our new Exorcists… undesirable traits. Keep calm, if you will."

Howard nodded in understanding and took a deep breath in apprehension. "It appears that you will not be pleased by these results. Two of the girls are noted as Greek Orthodox, born and raised in the Kingdom of Greece, and another is another Far-Eastern in the French colony of Indo-China with the presumed faith of Roman Catholicism from an indentured servitude with a French family that apparently abandoned her at some point."

Malcolm gave this a deep consideration. He looked above to the ceiling and gave a seething breath of conclusion. "These seem fine enough. The Greek Orthodoxy could be a problem, but it is far better than nothing. The Roman Catholicism is definitely a plus. Place a definite allocation of resources upon this girl, despite any racial concerns." He smile grew to the point of baring his teeth. "I will not have them. A good Catholic in this Order is far better than not at all. I want to see this girl prosper, not wither." He looked to Howard with pride, but he was not met with an equal face of overjoy as he, rather, a face of bloodymindedness. This quirked Malcolm's notice, "What is the matter now?"

He gave way to apprehension and simply let loose what he had been cautious to say, although piling praise upon one of the subjects in question. "We have three non-believers with in the group. One of them is of a German name officially, but he's actually an Ottoman. A Muslim, sir." Malcolm's face was in utter shock to this information, but Howard did not give him time to react and furthered on with the two others and their belief-systems. "The other is the boy I had mentioned before; the one who had made his way from all the way across the British Raj and Egypt. It seems, sir, that he is of the Buddhist faith."

Malcolm scowled, his voice nearly deteriorating to a territorially animalistic growl, "What in the Hell is that?" His eyebrows were furrowed and his tone severe to the point of infuriation of the highest degree.

Howard seemed coax himself away from his master's anger, clearly trying to keep his focus on his preliminary duty rather than face the religiously-charged wrath of the Vatican's administrator of the Black Order. He took out a small sheet of paper that had different factoids written all over it, both in hammed English and in tidier German. "Buddhism is an Eastern-Asian faith, seemingly a break-off branch of Hinduism long before the establishment of the Raj. It has taken hold over many populaces where there is a lack of Christianity in the East, or discontent with the strict caste structure of the Hindu system. The boy in question seems to have been the initial member of the group, while all four others seemed to just follow him along on the journey for the Black Order. We are unable to ascertain the way that he had any knowledge of us in the first place. There is no indication of sabotage or defection in any way, or even a clear motivation for finding the Order in the first place."

The thunder within Malcolm's eyes, all the way to his brain where his brain concocted and formulated over and over again, soon led to lightning of brain-messages and emotionally-enhancing hormones racing from nerve-cell to nerve-cell, all out-racing the information given through the ears and the drum all the way to the center. This darkened demeanor left a very stoic look upon his face, even as he put a royally-fit rag to his forehead. "Just because he seems innocent enough does not mean he is pure as the snow. I want you to keep an eye on him, although try not to stray from your duties with Walker. If any new information or eventual circumstances arise, inform me at once." He put the rag to the bridge of his nose with his thumb and finger. "You may go now, Howard. Do not disappoint me."

The German boy straightened his back and stood at brief attention, as if a soldier to a general. "I would never do so on my own accord, Master." He turned about-face from the compartment, leaving the files there in the likelihood that the Lombardian would want to read them. He had barely even opened the door in the meeting-chamber before lo and behold, the compartment was closed. His master, to be noted, did not choose to leave the files unread by his own ferocious eyes. He reached the top of the flight of stairs from the level where the chamber had taken its root to be greeted by a pristine-glass window with a view to the sky above. The clouds were tumbling upon each other with fierce winds that sliced like broad spectres in a duel of their eternal damnation's, and the rain fell in such a way that if even one were to be covered all over from head-to-toe he would still become drenched. There was a clap of thunder and a shriek of lightning, both at the same time, as if they foreboded the ever-coming demise of some omnipotent force. Howard had never been one to fear anything to do with nature, but now he had finally found the equal to Leverier's eyes: the very clap of God itself within the clouds above.


	26. Chapter 24

Allen covered his eyes as he exited the steam-ship the _RMS Excalibur_. He had been sleeping for the entire trip back on the ship, which was thankfully on a trip from the German port of Hamburg. The mission had been a long and trying one, with Lenalee guessing that they were several days behind the others. With both of his compatriots in tow, Allen led the way up to the Headquarters building in a sort of daze. The world never seemed as beautiful as it did now with every single dew-laden grass blade reflecting the sun's rays. The morning humid-air simply reminded Allen of where he was now: on a rolling British hill, steadily climbing up the forested path with his friends as they were half-asleep. He kept point and continued to secretly gaze back at them to keep them from falling back into slumber upon the path. The British boy noticed that every time he turned to check on the two behind him, his eyes always turned towards Lenalee. With every turn back, the image of her practically waltzing back and forth with her eyelids fluttering with the sensual rhythm of a butterfly's wings and her smooth skin glowing with the authenticity of a perfected marble sculpture simply implanted itself more and more within the corner of his mind. The visualized and highly confusing picture would not leave him alone, no matter how he tried to examine the meaning behind it. The path to the Headquarters' is beautiful in the sun's light, yet only the image of Lenalee remains primary? _Just keep walking, Allen, and you'll be home soon._

Barely a minute after this repetitively returning quandary absolved itself temporarily once more, the group found itself upon the steps of their destination. The structure was imposing in height and width, especially due to the fact that it was wrapped in full ambiance by Gothic architecture. Allen barely paid attention to it as he readied Timcanpy to be placed inside of a slot near the doorway. This sort of mechanism worked like a turn-and-lock key, with the golem's being the key. The golems, unbeknownst to the world and even to many of the Order itself, are crafted specifically to fit individually based on the designs in the locks. Timcanpy was overlooked in the original design of this system, and it stalled the construction of the new Headquarters as a whole to accommodate Allen. With that said, Timcanpy was sucked clearly into an unknown socket connected to the outside by a secreted compartment to insert the golems for barely ten seconds. Humongous locks were heard unhinging by a domino effect and promptly opened the door to their gargantuan home.

The church's atrium was designed with open-balconies, leading to many Order personnel traveling through the building with a view of the various other floors connected with the atrium. Lenalee and Yoshimata had significantly woken up enough to notice their fellows walking about to do their various work. Reever Wenham was on the ground-floor and was the first besides the ceremonial guardsmen to notice the colossal doors had opened. When he saw who had entered, he quickly finished up a business-only conversation with another scientist and hurried over to greet the returning Exorcists. "Welcome back, Allen, Lenalee and Yoshimata." He gave a wily grin, "You certainly did take your sweet time coming back from halfway across Europe." The group returned the smiles and the greeting, while he had noticed that Yoshimata was carrying a few packages in his hands.

Being asked what they were for, the Japanese boy cleared his throat and replied, "One is what was thought to be the Innocence. The others, however, are just gifts for everyone else." He extended his hand and delivered the package that was carried all the way across the seas and lands between Saint Petersburg and the British Isles.

The piece of shoddy paper, obviously a parcel of the natural world and not as refined as the materials the Order works with, felt very weighted in Reever's hand. It was obviously not an Innocence, since the casing used to transport those were too large to fit in an envelope of this size. _I wonder what it could be?_ Regardless, he gave a nod of thanks, "I'm sure that the scientists will be enthralled with this. We eat these kinds of scientific oddities like candy," and promptly turned to a serious tone. "So, the report of an Innocence was a false alarm?"

Allen nodded in confirmation, being a little too exhausted to give a simple 'yes'. "We were ambushed in the Kazan Cathedral, where it was located." He was reporting this directly to Wenham because Lenalee told him on the trip back that Komui would most likely be absent in the Headquarters due to some kind of secret meeting of the Black Order Directors in Italy. Since Reever was far more lax in his reporting requirements, Exorcists could practically just waltz right in and give a straight-forward report if there was little to no trouble at all. "Yoshimata protected our lawful escort of a local constable, then retrieved the Innocence while Lenalee and I distracted them." A sort of embarrassing grin took hold of the British boy as he rubbed the back of his head, "Unfortunately, the Cathedral itself was damaged during the fighting." Allen could see Reever frown in the corner of his mouth, subtly trying to hide his disappointment in the news.

The Australian breathed in deeply, and gave a stout response. "Don't worry about it, Allen and Lenalee; it was all in the line-of-duty, so I'm sure we'll be able to work a deal out with the Russian government to handle the damages." _In reality, that's easier said than done._ The fact that Roman Catholic-centered Exorcists had been in an Orthodox cathedral was bad enough, but to have actually _fought inside it_? Reever was praying desperately that the secrecy of the Order would not be infringed upon by the current Tsar, whose family line has been infamous to the Popes for those very efforts with records going all the way back to the very first Tsar Ivan IV Vasilyevich of the Rurik Dynasty, whom established his rule in 1547. The man was, although a mental-lunatic and depressed for most of his reign, a cunning and perceiving ruler on his best moments and was able to figure out the patterns of the 'Christian missionaries' that always seemed to follow violence, terror and slaughter. The Tsar nearly revealed their entire operations and subverted the authority of the Holy See altogether to a virtually powerless enigma if it had not been for the skillful politics of the Leverier family. To this day, although the man was a pain in the arse and a spoiled brat on the inside, Reever had to admit he owed the existence of his job to his family's efforts. Other than that, Reever had bigger issues to attend to than think about foreign history. He gave a nod of approving dismissal to the three Exorcists and walked off to attend to some paperwork.

* * *

Allen and the group were walking along through the atrium proper, greeting their fellows as they want. However, Allen then noticed prompt movements at the corner of his eye, and then turned to see Yoshimata checking a pocket-watch. Confused, he asked "What's the matter?"

In short motions of exasperation and anticipation, the Japanese put the pocket-watch away and straightened himself and mouthed a count-down. "Three, two…" He closed his eyes as his lips enunciated the last word. Right on time, too, for he was joyfully tackled by Sami Hana with enough force to throw him directly off his feet. The wind was knocked out of him as he was hugged with such friendly force, so he could not beg for her to calm down and explain her Parisian adventure slowly.

From where she came followed Dairu and Joseph, the former of whom was laughing cheerfully while the latter was monotonously looking upon the confusing acts of greeting. "Nice to see you're back, Yoshi. We arrived just two days ago, while Sami returned just a day before that." There were numerous small bandages around their faces that patched up cuts, bruises, and so on upon the Italian and Turk's faces. Both of them came back with makeshift bandages, as well as helping carry Krory into the Medical Section of the Headquarters to check him in. Sami, on the other hand, was perfectly fine as far as anyone could tell. In fact, Johnny foretold that Lavi was carrying several packages in his arms as his partner led him on to her room. Yoshimata's haul was not nearly as large, and that brought a dividing point to each other's missions. Obviously, there was joyous spirits about at the moment for all: every one of the new Exorcists survived, and returned with combat experience. Dairu could attest to that.

Finally removing the Undisputed Champion of Tackling from his person, Yoshimata looked up to Dairu with a look of query. "Has Yoko arrived yet?" As he said that, he shuffled the package he was carrying from one arm to another. The shake of his friend's head gave him his answer, so he raised himself and Sami to their feet. However, a peculiar smell caught his and soon enough everyone else's nose. It was… sweet?

From the door came the remaining two Exorcists. Firstly was Yoko who looked back outside the still-opened gate-doors with both laughter-filled giddiness and concern. She turned back and stood away from the door as it seemed the smell was growing closer and closer. Then, behind her came a lumbering form of chocolate. It was humanoid in shape, but monstrous in demeanor: its face was laced with enough femininity to suggest beauty, yet enough masculine malice to note the being's true gender, and it walked with solid and evenly organized steps with broad reaches to try and hurry into the building with as little interaction as possible.

Lavi, taken aghast by the sugary humanoid, gave a whispered suggestion as to who it could be: "A giant chocolate rabbit?" Alas, it was not the correct answer.

It, instead, was the one image to turn everyone to unhesitant guffaws and high-spirits was the very physical interpretation of comedy: Yu Kanda, covered from head-to-toe, including his previously black-and-red uniform, completely with chocolate. His skin and hair shone from the substance that was the same coating from every inch of his body. He strode quickly through the atrium with what probably was a blush under the chocolate he was covered in. Allen was definitely the first one to laugh hysterically at the reveal, while there was no particular order with everyone else. Even Lenalee and Yoko, the more official at the most serious of times of the group, gave off a giggle and chuckle respectively. In a dramatic turn, Kanda growled in challenge, "What're you all laughing at?" What an absent-minded question to ask.

Yoshimata could not answer, for he was looking the other way as he normally did, covering his mouth from laughing out loud. Sami was giggling openly with joy in her heart, Lenalee and Yoko doing as mentioned before, Dairu bursting with guffaws on the ground. That left only Allen to try and suppress his Limey-chuckles and give a straight answer. "You're covered in chocolate, that's what!" His eyebrow raised in humoured skepticism, he asked, "How in the world did that happen?"

Yoko began to calm herself to tell the tale, but Kanda managed to beat her to the punch. "I fell into a vat of this shit, and by the time I got out it was already solid beyond the point of being washed off by water. So, we went all around Brussels and tried to look for an answer before returning." If Kanda's teeth could grit any more, they would and shatter into a billion pieces of pearly-white pieces. "We did not find anything that could help me, so we decided to just come back and let the scientists do what they can." Suddenly, the young man perked in surprise and turned around with complete shock. There, he saw Sami and Joseph both biting down on pieces of his chocolate-covered hair and sucking on them like candy-canes. Lightning could've cracked the sky then and there and still not be nearly as fast as Kanda's hand when it snatched the hilt of Mugen to threaten both of the leeches of his chocolate-hair away. Intelligently, both complied. He turned from the dying-down laughter and festiveness and stormed off with his intimidating glare to stare down some scientists to get what he wanted.

Dairu's accent slipped into a thick Prusso-German quasi-Turkish one from his tamed, trying monotonous one that attempted to be as neutral as possible. "Oh, that was _wunderba__r._ Truly a wonderful thing to behold, _ja?_" His left sleeve wiped away the tears that began to swell over in the uproar. Dairu was the last one to regain his strength to stand up, giving him the opportunity to see his friend, Yoshimata, conversing with Lenalee in private. The Japanese boy gave her a crudely wrapped package and an unhearable question-for-directions, which she answered with a smiled point towards the center of the Headquarters. This information came in handy for, over an hour later, Allen Walker had eventually come to him and asked where that very person was at the moment. Answering that question was easy.

* * *

With slight caution in his step, Allen entered the darkened halls of the Inner Church. Dairu had told him that Lenalee pointed him this way about an hour before or so, so he was bound to be around here somewhere. There was no immediate reasoning behind his search; it was just that his mind trailed back to the beginning of the mission, when he and Lenalee were whispering their indirect wonders of their compatriot's personal history. Those questions were never asked, thus never answered. It would've been sort of rude to give him a full-on interview right when it was his first mission for the Order _ever._ Now, however, was a more appropriate time. The tiles on the floor soon turned to smooth cobble-stones as the authenticity of the church was ramped up to the Nth-degree as he strode closer and closer to the chapel. He pushed the mahogany doors he reached with minimal effort, seeing as they were already more than a crack-way open, and saw that the entirety of the Holy Room was being kept at minimal artificial lightning. Small candles still lit the altar at the head of the room, while the main source of illumination came from the sun's rays that refracted through the stained glass images of Jesus Christ and his Apostles.

Within this scarce lighting was Yoshimata sitting attentively in one of the ten pews on the left side of the chapel. Allen approached with caution to not stir him, especially after seeing from about five metres away that he was holding a _Bible_, of all things! It was only after a minute of peeking over the shoulder that both Exorcists met eye-to-eye at last. An uncomfortable silence blanketed the line of fire between the Briton's gray eyes and the Japanese's blue, until the veteran amongst the two finally cracked a smile to lighten the mood. "I see you're reading a King James Bible, there. May I inquire why?"

To Allen's relief, his comrade gave him a genuine smile back despite the silence and the question. Or, was it because of them? "But, indeed it is. Pristine and directly fresh-from-the-shelf. This chapel's minister allowed me to take it out for me to read when I asked." He patted a spot right next to where he was situated on the pew as an offering. Allen accepted. When they were finally sitting at equal levels for once, side-by-side, Yoshimata answered the second part of his inquiry. "And I am reading it because it's, actually…" He seemed embarrassed to speak, a slight blush coming over his face in humoured fault, "The only English book I have ever read."

This took the Briton by surprise. "Well, that can't be true; I've seen you reading other books all the time!"

"Those books were written in Russian, Korean, or" The Japanese boy seemed to practically swallow his entire mouth in hesitation to continue. "Rarely, in Japanese." He looked up and down Allen as if he would find some sort of riddle of clue visible upon his person. It was sort of subtle in the morning-light that struggled through the stained glass, but it was evident all the same. "In my travels across Asia, I must have stumbled across into the United Kingdom's territories without my understanding. I checked into schools, day after day and eventually came to terms with the English lessons either by children's books or the Bible itself. However, the children's books were all in rags with errors as far as the eye could read in Japanese. They looked as if they had seen a climactic battle after a thunderous war, and were only scribbled down by a half-wit in the midst of a cataclysmic destruction." His smile had long since faded away. The blue eyes now looked downward at the back of the pew in front of them, almost as if he were confessing to sin. He looked up again with a half-done smile, "This type of Bible was the one thing that was maintained to perfection and kept in stock every place I went. I may not agree with its Christian ideology, but it would be ridiculous to not give it credit where credit is due."

Allen was speechless at first to respond. He had not expected such an eloquent response from him when he had entered the chapel. This caused a quick reprimand to himself, feeling ashamed to lower his expectations so quickly. What felt like a minute passing by did so before Allen could respond, "Well, I'm glad that you put the Text to good use." He placed his left hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about disagreeing on religion here. We're all in this together to fight the Earl, and he doesn't discern at all between which faiths you are."

The moment brought both of them a friendly warmth within their hearts. Thus, they silently agreed to let the moment drag on further as they settled in to continue on to read the book together. It was not to be, however, as Lavi soon entered in his own non-discreet way. "Hey, Allen! Are you in here?" His voice echoed like annoying thunder personified in the vocal callings of a redheaded Italian. How obnoxious. "We've got lunch in the dining hall!" And as quickly he entered, Lavi left with an accommodating clanging of heavy doors.

Now that, Allen and Yoshimata had to admit, was a conversation-killer. An assassin's blade with a smiling face on the hilt to the back of a solaced selection to a forming friendship is all that it can be described as, in the brightest terms. So, the British of the two shrugged away the Bookman trainee's rudeness and brought himself to his feet. "You had heard him, correct?" A teasing grin came forth. "Let's go get something to eat." The grin was transferred and replicated by Yoshimata, whom couldn't agree more. After all, what is there to eat on German trains or British passenger ships?

* * *

In short terms, the dining hall was absolutely _astounding_ to be in. It may be a simplistic sort of room, but it was a hub of interactions for the Order's members. There was always something of conversation on the lips of the occupants, whether it be about science, religion, business, past lives before their current services, or even blackly humourous parables about death and life. The Exorcists never had a solid environmental strategy for sitting, despite what some may think about the entailment of the young, select few. Yu Kanda usually ate by himself, or was begrudgingly joined by his long-time squad-member Noise Marie, a dark-skinned man that was perhaps the oldest of all the non-General Exorcists, save definitely the Bookman. All the other Exorcists, before the arrival of the newer ones, simply ate in their own little circles around the room, usually having Allen eating with Lavi or Lenalee, Lavi eating with either the formers or the Bookman, Miranda by herself, Krory by himself or constantly hawked by Lavi, and so forth. However, now, practically every Exorcist on hand was united at one table. It was a remarkable sight, seeing children of different nations wearing the same sacred black uniforms, conversing like old chums over their food. In a way, it was a reflection of the Last Supper that many of them have come to know. The only problem was that there was no person to fill in the seat for Jesus Christ before Allen came into the picture. Yoshimata sat himself between Dairu and Yoko on one side of the table, and Allen sat between Lenalee and Lavi on the other side.

Yoko gave a small smirk to Sami as she described her extended off-time on the mission to Paris. Her friend's shopping for various trinkets in the stores rotating in place around the Eiffel Tower was definitely a fun story to listen to, especially considering that she forced, or coaxed, Lavi to carry the packages the whole way. _What a fool. He's either a gentleman, or simply a trickster willing to go through anything to get close to her._ She cracked a new, sort of brooding smile as she contemplated how excruciating a punishment it would be for a person laced with malcontent to try and fool her. Sami may be soft on the outside, cheerful and fluffy in demeanor, she actually revealed a comically evil side of her own when she was able to catch on to a ruse. Sadistic, ruthless and unforgiving.

Lavi reached across the table to pass her a piece of Streuselkuchen, the crumbs falling from the cake onto the table as it passed on. His wily smile was an enigmatic glossary of joking sensation and charisma as he said, "Try some of this, Sami; I'm sure you'll like it!" As the plate was in Sami's extended hand, he gave her a secret little wink. "I had Jerry make it special." Surprised by the sudden advance, all Sami could do was return a giggling and red-faced thanks to her own new-found friend.

* * *

From across the table, Noise Marie seemed to be eating his scrambled eggs in peace. The subtle movements of his hands to scratch his head disguised what could be described as 'snooping': he was readjusting his headphones to hone in his hearing on the ongoing conversations. He compiled a mental list of the names he heard, blinking his sightless eyes to the conversation's beginnings and ends in the voluptuous sea of the cafeteria's chats. Noise had never bothered anyone without reason before, so right now no one paid his movements or silence any mind out of the ordinary. He passively regretted doing this frankly confusing task in the back of his mind, but he had no choice in the matter; Kanda asked him to do this as a one-time favour, and since his close comrade had asked this of him, he had to do it no matter how confusing it was.

So, once he achieved his ulterior goal, he calmly stood up from the table and promptly put away his silverware. He knew where Kanda was during breakfast, and probably still was as Noise trailed his way through the halls. It took him several minutes of now-casually careful walking he has mastered after years of blindness, but he finally reached the Science Department. There, he heard a small and nervous jittering that was the sort of assigned-stereotypical sound of one of the younger scientists. Despite just entering the Department's main office and being welcomed to newer sounds of bickering, various work like page-turning and writing, the whimpering and fidgeting could have come from only one familiar source. "Hello, Johnny. Is Kanda still here?"

With a gasp of relief, Johnny grabbed Noise by the arm and tugged on him in a hurried motion. "Thank God you're here, Noise! You must come quickly!" The question sank in to his panic. "Oh, yes, he's here alright; that's why I need you to come with me. He has been refusing to allow us to take a routine before-and-after photograph to examine the effects of the chemicals on the chocolate he's covered in." Johnny's voice began to crack with fear as he continued, the pitch hurrying itself by several decibels, He's gone so far as to threaten to beat anyone who gets near him until you arrive, because apparently you have something to tell him."

What a self-contained sigh the Austrian gave. With a solemn shake of his head in exasperation, Noise had Johnny lead him all the way to the room where several scientists were standing against one of the brown-wooden walls, their hands propping them up, while Kanda glared from a metallic-paneled shower rig that contained him sitting on a chair. His eyes were like daggers, patiently waiting to slash and stab any who dared to get close. _What a bother._ "Please settle down, Kanda, I'm here now."

That seemed to placate the Chocolaty Exorcist, whose expression softened as he finally complied with the scientists' requests. He took off his sword's holding sash and tossed the now-blunt but still threatening implement over to a paled-faced Croatian-born chemist, whom placed it down on a table within the room next to a large amount of different chemical subsidies. Kanda took off the rest of his clothes, unbuttoning both his jacket and removing his pants. Meanwhile, he looked up apprehensively to Noise as he pulled his arms out of the sleeves and gave him a less boisterous and seemingly long-desired question, "What did you learn about those three I asked you to spy on?" His eyes looked up for a second with caution and perhaps embarrassment.

Noise answered despite how rude and threatening Kanda was to the scientists, holding them up just for this mediocre task to be carried out. _T'is what friends are for._ "Yoshimata Hakitawa is the only Japanese one of the group. Yoko Kyoukan, apparently, has absolutely no Japanese link besides her name." He gave a light-hearted shrug, continuing with a suggestion. "You do know that you would be able to get further information by _talking_ to them directly, correct?"

To that insertion, Kanda returned with a grunt as his chocolaty-fudge pants fell to the floor and revealed his equally covered legs and briefs.

_Still stubborn as a horse._ "Well, Sami Hana is also not of Japanese descent. She is, instead, of Kinh-Dai Namese birth and French upraising, but seems to be taught the language by Yoshimata out of bilingual interests."

Looking up from the cringing scientist who was taking away the clothes to where Mugen was laying, the Exorcist muttered "Are you absolutely sure?" He was completely nude, bar his Order-issued, contemporary-shortened braeis. Still, the chocolate was coated all over his compact and structured muscles that were reserved due to the fact that he was just the age of eighteen, not yet physically adapted to the full confines of adulthood to have a more expansive or outrageous physique. The chocolate did not add any build but, rather, seemed to be like a dye that perfectly acted the role of the skin, whereas it detailed and outlined Kanda's body perfectly so that it was now a perfectly modeled, breathing and snorting chocolate Kanda. What a treat.

Again, Noise gave his answer. "You told me to listen in on their conversations and return to you as soon as possible. They were not, unfortunately, talking about their personal histories as you may have thought they would have. I was, however, fortunate to catch little snippets that I could retrieve." A sigh of contempt. "Why do you want to know about their Japanese ancestry so much, Kanda? You have not been the same since we came back from Edo, when we rescued Walker and the others from the Ark."

To this, the Japanese Exorcist turned his bare back upon Noise and silently made his way into the tank's knee-high entrance. His expression was contemplative, almost distracted upon something else. There was a metallic-echoed set of splashes that followed, and just before closing the door, Kanda turned around and looked his friend straight in the eye. "I have my reasons." And the door was shut with a loud slam, and thus the scientists went to work.


	27. Chapter 25

Sami sat up straight as she continued her multiple conversations with the relatively few female scientists of the Black Order Headquarters. Most of them were new, having only joined the Order a month ago due to the manpower depletion by the devastating Akuma assault on the former French headquarters. While some of the veterans of the old Headquarters had the opportunity to take advantage of the French shops, markets and even trips to Paris on diplomatic litigations and what-not, the newcomers did not. So, this being said, Sami was thus made very popular amongst the new women, all of various national origins with no discernable pattern between them. Each asked garden-variety questions about her time at the Avenue des Champs-Élysées and all of its shops with their foods and exotic clothes, or her sights of the Arc de Triomphe. She answered every one of those questions with eccentricity to match theirs, all of them giggling and crowding on the table like gossiping hens.

Meanwhile, Yoko was watching her friend with scorn. The emotion she was feeling was somewhat of contempt, looking at her friend taking up so much time to describe her frivolous spending-sprees in such a manner. She knew that feeling this way about her friend simply describing her fun in Paris to other women was childishly avaricious, but it was rooted deeper than that. A sense of honour, of pride in getting to the order was being taken for granted by Sami, whom was degrading her first assignment to this momentous organization like a trip down a damn market circuit.

"Did you visit the Musée du Louvre?" Eliza Brodl, the Hungarian botanist, asked this while holding on to her shoulder.

To this, Sami shook her head. "No, but Lavi and I _did_ get a lot of new clothes from the Avenue!" She demonstrated with a small showing wave of her arm, a colonial-made charm-bracelet, all the way from Oubangui-Chari; it was a minor piece of jewelry, granted, but it still demonstrated beautiful colours and delicate designing.

Another of the women marveled at the brilliance of the passé-yet-rich cultural trinket, holding it delicately with the tips of her Danish fingers. She was, of course, a chemist, and one of the first women at this time anywhere to even be in the field; even then, her outlook demonstrated attempts at looking her best, with what little she had and what little she wanted to use at all. "How were you able to afford this? It must have cost you so much!" A strand of Kleine Glomenstein's black hair fell from its bonnet to her face out of no particular order to her hazel eyes.

In an ackward glance down for a split second, Sami seemed caught off-guard by the question. It was an honest question, but it still seemed to generate a different-sort of attention from her. A moment passed, and she answered with a strained beginning. "I was able to access my family's monetary funds, after a few months of being on our big adventure." She gave a shrug and a nod, "French accounts, it turned out, can only be accessed directly in the motherlands, and not in its colonies. So, this little trip to Paris allowed me to finally take out a few hundred francs." _Thank goodness I remembered to put the money away before I came down to eat!_ Sami gave herself a mental pat on the back for her frugal efforts.

However, the opulence and gratification all-around only seemed to quirk Yoko further, not stymie her. That was proven when, after the breakfast, the Greek woman confronted her friend outside the hall. No shouting, really; just a stern tone with an initial turned cold shoulder. "Why did you do that?" Sami was surprised by the question, and asked what she meant. Turning around, "Why did you buy all that jewelry and show off all that money? We're supposed to be working, here, not trying to fill up your wardrobe!"

Shocked, Sami replied with a non-crass admittance of guilt, "I don't know why."

"We traveled all over Europe, going across the Atlantic, and all the way to some shit-hole for a reason, Sami. This is the church we're dealing with, and these are all professional people that we've decided to join." She gave a frustrated groan not only for Sami's expenditures, but also for her own condemning.

The look on the Vietnamese girl's face showed that she understood the point perfectly. _I can't really explain why I just went ahead and spent all that money, can I?_ "You're right, Yoko-chan. I should've been a little more mature, especially since it was a dangerous place to be just an hour before." The 'chan' was added with some sort of remorse that she was even trying to add Japanese honourifics to her way of speech since she was far from being Japanese at all. She acted like a wannabe; a delusional, foolish little strumpet that could not handle herself without her friends in the real world.

Yoko gave a prompt nod of affirmation, and proceeded to walk off, the growing feeling of self-hate growing to bitter levels as it urged her to turn-heel and apologize for the harsh reprimand. She ignored it as best as she could, trying to keep the obscure lesson in honour and professionalism intact. A turn of the corner, and the aid of not being able to see the sadness upon her face was a welcoming benefactor.

* * *

Who could have walked along sooner than the reigning-jester of the Order for several years, and only becoming known by the 'mainstream', or Allen, and a year later by Sami and the rest? Lavi, of course! The bounciness of his red hair was like a teenaged-man's version for bunny-ears, and the eye-patch was not as weird as one would think. Rather, it marked him as a sort of rabble-rouser; vaudeville in the guise of a tough gentleman. To compensate for the hiding of one eye, the other gave the wiles, intelligence and shenaniganed-thoughts a home so that they could be displayed for public viewing. He used this to his advantage as he approached the visibly troubled Sami, whom was now growing to be as good as a friend as, he could dare say, _Allen_! She acted so energetically to every single happening around them during Paris, and even managed to expand his interest in the local culture and history. _I would like to keep it to myself, but I have to admit: she actually knew things that I don't think I would have figured out as a Bookman._ What a flustering reality he faced!

Sami noticed his approach and quickly snapped out of her daze. "Lavi-senpai!" This honourific was new. In Japanese, it meant she was addressing him by name as a mentor; before, on the mission, she addressed to him affectionately with the added 'kun'. To be honest, there was nothing much that Lavi had known about Japanese; anything the Bookmen had on the culture was limited, but it seemed that Yoshimata had taught Sami rather well. He was in no position to comment, of course, but the way she was so open to other cultures made her seem, strangely enough, _free._

"Hello, Sami." He had noticed her scolding from a mile away; that was the very reason he had even known that she was in this hallway. _I could have just walked along, but I managed to hear her by chance._ Chance always favored Lavi, just like Lady Luck; what a suitor to the unknown cosmic forces. He brought himself just a tad bit closer, knocking the metre distance between them down to just barely a quarter-a-metre. "Why the long face?"

A small blush formed over her face as she shifted her legs a tad bit to both step backwards an inch to conform to a sudden emotional solidarity. "No reason, really! I'm not sad at all, don't worry about me!"

He cracked the most disarming smile he could. "Now, you're just lying to me. How's about you tell me all about it?"

The blush evolved. She began to stammer, her hands holding each other against her chest. "Well," She began, "I guess I can talk about it to you if you want to hear it, Lavi-kun." And there she went, back to her normal self. However, now, they were going to sit down in the cafeteria to talk. Sure, they already talked before, but now it was going to be one-on-one.

* * *

The redhead set both of the glasses of milkshakes down at the table with his made with the richest chocolate Jerry's kitchen had to offer, and Sami's, made of vanilla and raspberries. He immediately began to dig in with his spoon, but Sami was a little more awkward in her approach to the food. She scooped in slightly when her utensil was handed to her, but did not bother to further her ventures into the swirls of milkshake-ice-cream malt and delicious raspberries. Lavi was not lost to her hesitation, so he stopped his own eating and assumed a far more laid-back position in his chair. Both Exorcists stared into each other, waiting for the other to speak to break such a terribly strained silence. He put his hands up in defeat and said, "Go ahead, tell me what's the matter."

The young woman took a deep breath in, letting her feelings build up to her chest, and began to blurt out everything she knew. Iron-clad lungs were nothing compared to hers as she began from her first internally backed-up dilemma to her most recent, not once having a neutral expression or even a stationary face for more than five words. "I really liked the mission we went on together, Lavi-kun, but for some reason I just can't shake the feeling that I don't really like what's going on. We were in the middle of a river, in the middle of Paris, taking on this nasty monster on a boat with two people that had absolutely nothing to do with it. Sure, they were police, but that doesn't mean they knew what they were getting into! I was so scared when they were cornered on the raft; I thought they would have been done-in if we weren't fast enough to save them, since they were all alone against that Akuma. Sure, we saved them, but what if _we didn't_? There's an entire world that only we're supposed to know, yet there's just so much of it reaching the world that regular people live in that it's just too overwhelming to think about." Her voice began to stammer, small tears forming in her eyes. "I used to think that the world was a nice, caring place, yet demons crawl the night wherever a 'beacon of hope' is supposed to be, and the good guys can only just get there in time to stop them from being bad. How're we supposed to justify being late, or not arriving at all? What's to say that, while we're sitting down right now, someone is being killed or an entire city could be on _fire_? How can we _ever_ be off-guard, asleep, eating, playing, laughing, joking, or even _thinking_ without being at fault for somebody dying?" The tears were no longer just forming in her eyes, but also racing down her cheeks as she tried to keep her voice down to a harsh whisper of confession.

Through the entire moral-confession, Lavi did not break his gaze. His eye merely blinked, but never at any point did he show a judging emotion or condescending quip. He employed a naturally passive face perfected by the Bookmen for generations for negotiations and interrogations, and it worked to a specific charm: he placed his hands upon hers from across the table and looked her directly into the eyes to show that he was waiting for her to calm herself. When she finally managed to do so barely three minutes later, he rubbed her bundled hands with his thumbs. "I can't tell you how many nights the same thoughts haunted me as a child, when my job as an Exorcist and another were mixed in confusion. One was to protect humanity and destroy the Akuma, but the other was strictly to never interfere with the course of history. I managed to stop those preying thoughts by the time I met Allen and devoted more of my life to the Order, yet my other job still calls to me." He gave a small shrug, seemingly uncaring about all of that he had said just then. "There _is_ no real answer to this conundrum, no matter how you look at it. The only things that we, as Exorcists and people, the same in the two, are doomed to do are both succeed in saving those we meet, and failing to save those we never meet." Lavi's head lowered, looking with a hint of sadness to the milkshake in front of him. "I don't think of our fun as being disrespectful to those who we fail to save; rather, it's just a way to express our gratitude to being able to save those whom we do, and as a way to mourn those we do not. That's all I can think of, Sami, but I'm sure there is a better reason why."

His female counter-part wiped the tears from her eyes after a contemplative moment of reflection on his words. When the last tear was slain, Sami gave him the biggest smile she could muster in gratitude. "Thank you, Lavi-kun." She involuntarily squeezed the hands she held, and upon the realization of her actions, an embarrassed blush took over her previous one of distress.

To his own surprise, Lavi squeezed back with genuine gratitude and proceeded to lean forward with a sly grin upon his face. "I know of a different way to make you feel better, Sami. Would you like to try it?"

With a surprised expression, Sami gave a small submission of permission. "Sure, if you think it'll be fun."

A chuckle, filled with humour of both anticipation and wiles. "It will be."

* * *

Yoko reached her room in time to do what she had grown accustomed to for the last few days: marvel her new weapon. It was an unconventional object to begin with, with it being a scythe rather than a spear or even a halberd. An honest-to-god-and-all-mythos _scythe_ from the bottom of its neatly and naturally carved snath to the top of its heel. It was a beautifully crafted weapon, with its black wood seeming to never lose its shine nor its finish despite the action it saw just days before. The blade of this weapon swung with ease, loosely slicing through the supposedly tough skin of the demons they were fighting as if it were not even there. With the relative ease of the blade came a cautiousness in Yoko's use of the blade itself, for while her other weapons carried some sort of weight in their swing to be counter-balanced by slow and steady movements, her scythe carried little to none at all. In fact, merely holding the snath with her two hands caused her to feel like she could move _faster_. The wind was beneath her feet as she _knew_ she could run faster than normal, that going at speeds an iron-horse would be envious of was of no quarrel to her, and that gravity was a side-note and no longer a law that bound her. If this is what it felt to use an Innocence, it was no wonder that Kanda was faster than any human she had ever seen before in her life.

There must be a reason for his impossible dexterity, speed and strength in battle. However, no matter how she thought about it from her albeit limited knowledge of modern 'biology', his extraordinary feats of leaps, bounds, charges, spins, parries, and all the others were violations of the basic laws of human capability. When she and Sami stumbled upon his routine practice out in the forests, her eyes could barely even catch up with just his shadow as he sliced leaves directly in half from tip to stem, jumping from each tree like the vertical, solid inclines were bouncy-pads. Yoko continued to look over her memory of the events, and slowly but surely her mind decoded the blurs that she saw. Soon enough, she began to actually comprehend how he was able to defy the natural laws so ably: it was his Innocence. It, somehow, _some way,_ gave Kanda the ability to perform these impossibilities. This was despite the fact that although, granted, he was a very, very, _very_ muscular fellow for his age, and he definitely knew how to do every single thing with one hundred percent of his all-

_Wait, what was I talking about, again?_ She blinked once, realizing now that she was staring blankly at her weapon. With a small shake of her head, Yoko turned to take her leave of the room, but was stopped by the sight of a package placed inconspicuously upon her bed. What a strange thing to find; she had not seen one of these since before her entry into the order, back in Greece. Every time her birthday came around on August 14th, she would find several of these especially wrapped gifts on her bed with the best glitter the place of her work could present to her. She knew that they were wrapped by just another hand-servant, but she definitely knew who was the gift had come from; someone special to her heart, way back in the heart-land. _I wonder what she's doing right now…_ Yoko let her head drop slightly with a warm smile growing upon her face, and she let the fond feelings overtake her for a moment. Her thoughts trailed back to the source of her momentary bliss, so she immediately sat down to open the crudely-yet-genuinely handmade wraps. Inside were incredibly endearing trinkets: a pair of leather combat boots marked and signed with the insignia of the Saint Petersburg's Imperial Guard on the ankle-lengths, and a Greek-Orthodox Cross. Holding the boots in her hands as she sat on the end of her bed, the Greek-Asiatic girl could only marvel at the compelling yet rugged design of the hardened, tanned leather and its contrast to the Russian Imperial Eagle patch sewn into the parallel heels of the boots, both pointing away from each other in design.

A sudden idea popped into her mind. "Who are these from?" She turned the wrapping-paper's remnants over and over, but despite all of her searching she could not find a single tell-tale sign. Her hand glided softly over the silver and faux-gold encrusted as her mind's cogs turned. "Russian boots, and an Orthodox cross." She listed the two items and almost instantly did she come to a conclusion: Lenalee must have gotten her a welcoming gift! Of course, it all adds up! _She was just in the Russian Empire, so she probably thought of getting these for me as a trinket for our new friendship._ What a nice thing to do; after all, Yoko had just joined the Order and the both of them had only exchanged a few conversations with each other. She really _must_ remember to thank Lenalee for her thoughtfulness.

Adorning the boots by replacing her old hand-me-downs and putting the cross upon herself with a necklace, she took a quick second to look in the mirror. Obviously, Yoko approved of what she saw, for she took her leave of her room and walked down the halls. She had neither path nor any reason to leave her room, but she did it nonetheless; perhaps there would be something to do?

It took a while for Yoko to find someone she knew. Of course there was the random scientist or Swiss Guard here or there, but she didn't _know_ any of them. They were all from far-flung nations that she could barely place the origins of the first person she came across. Then again, it wasn't her place to decide who came from where. Well, unless you were one of those Turkish dogs, of course. But don't take her as a racist, it's nothing like that in the slightest. It's just hard to trust a Turk after centuries of subjugation, and even a _fucking _war just two years ago. But still, Yoko had Asian blood in her veins, yet she was born right near the Royal Palace, and raised inside of it by Greek parents. It feels surreal to be so adamant against those of Asian origin like them, yet be born with similar blood herself. _Why the hell am I even thinking about this? Where the hell am I going?_About three minutes had passed into that strangely uncomfortable self-exposition that no one was even paying attention to, not even Yoko, as she realized that she had just arrived in the part of the Headquarters with Sami's room. This was an odd realization, due to the fact that she was on the other length of the building-structure entirely.

What an embarrassment! She had just walked along probably with a dumb-ass, empty-emotional face with no dignity to her at all. _God damn, this always happens when I have nothing to do._ It really did; she was a wandering fool, sometimes. Her life had once been of regimental duty and constant attention to details, yet now she was placed in a life with luxury and leisure on the levels of the one that she had once lived to protect. _Leisure._ That word brought back that painful talking-to that she gave Sami barely an hour ago. In retrospect, it was completely uncalled for. Yoko had no right to do it, and she knew it well; it was disrespectful and mean-spirited, and was too strict for her own good. A defeated sigh echoed throughout the deserted hallway, acting like a conversationalist for the taps of shoes and distant voices going to and thro the hall.

There was one outlier, however, from those listed above for their interconnected states of being recognizable: a faint sound of springs being pressured again and again. What a devilishly camp sound! It hid behind the echoes that it created, yet teased her with its close proximity in the hallway. All around her, the echoes retreated behind the annunciation of the squeaking springs, over and over and over as it slowly began to drive its strangely rhythmic beat into Yoko's consciousness. "What in the hell?" she asked herself of the sound's meaning, but to no avail. All the young woman could do was follow the reverberations in a game of Hot-Cold, whereas when the sounds grew louder she knew she was coming closer to the source and quieter when she was coming away. Around a corner in the seemingly long-stretches of empty, woodened-hallways with similarly wooden ceilings and doors were two figures she did not expect to bump into: Allen, Lenalee, Dairu and Joseph! They explained to her that they, too, were on the search for the mysterious noise after hearing it by chance from two scientists coming from this corridor. Evidently, there was nothing else to do at the moment but to search out this intrusion in the place's naturally placid atmosphere.

While the five Exorcists were walking along, Dairu asked why Yoko kept turning her head around and around; he said it made her look like she were a mad-woman. Explaining, "Back when I was a kid, I used to play a game that could be of help to us now. If we grow closer to the source of this racket, the sound will be louder than beforehand. If it becomes quieter, then we should try and find another way to it." The idea was pretty sound, to be perfectly honest; it offered a calm and organized way to discover the source of the whining springs while also letting them use their ears to be of help.

Finally, the group of five arrived in what seemed to be the door that was holding in the majority of the incessant squeaking and now-audible human sounds. However, Yoko was at a road-block with this quest to be honest, for the room was the one room that she had not expect to find the source to be: Sami's room. Allen suggested that they knock politely to ask to be let in, but Yoko and Lenalee struck down the idea with great haste. There was something going on in there, and by Yoko's insistence they pressed their ears against the door. Inside, they heard not only Sami's voice seeming to be positioned on the bed with some sort of activity going on that required her to pant, but there was also _Lavi's_ voice as well! Both were doing something in there, and whatever it was, it involved the bed to the point that there was loud squeaking noise coming rhythmically from inside. Being the most mature of the group, only Dairu, Yoko and Lenalee had a brief clue as to what the noise was really about while Allen and Joseph raised their eyebrows in their own firebrands of ignorance.

Then, for no explainable reason for the veteran-Exorcists Allen and Lenalee, Dairu and Yoko looked at each other with the same incredulous looks. Dairu was the one to ask with a cautious voice, "Do you think we should go get him to make sure it's what we think is?" His eyes looked back at the door with a small drop of sweat forming on the side of his head in apprehension.

Yoko nodded in affirmation. "I'll be right back, keep everyone here for a minute." She ran off in a hurry, crossing around a corner and fading into the distant hallways.

The Turk looked back at everyone, and gave an awkward shrug. "Trust us; we're getting someone who knows exactly about these types of things."

* * *

Almost seven minutes passed before Yoko's footsteps came echoing back into existence, along with the foot-falls of another that seemed to be trying to catch up with her. Or, rather, was being practically _dragged_ by her as evident by how she had him by the arm. In a sense of pride of being able to hunt him down, Yoko cracked a smile whilst holding Yoshimata aloft. When both had finally caught their breaths, she filled him in. "I told you that there was something weird going on!" She pointed her thumb to the mahogany-cased door that was guarded silently by her compatriots in her absence. "Listen to it; we have no idea what the hell is going on in there, but we don't want to go in if it's something…" She trailed off with what seemed to be an embarrassed blush peeking on her cheeks. "Something that would be unwise to barge into." With a calculated, yet otherwise to the outsider a polite and proper step out of the way to the door, she bowed her hand to show the way one metre to the source and its inhabitant's activities.

Allen was far from confused now: he was _lost_ at this point. _What are they even bloody talking about now? What would be 'something unwise to barge into'?_ His mind turned its gears as fast as it could whilst his 'kidnapped' Japanese companion gave off an array of deciding emotions. The misunderstanding dragged on for at least half a minute before Allen finally had to ask, "Why did you even drag him here? What can Yoshimata do about this?"

To this, there was a chuckle from both Dairu and Yoko as a secret joke passed once again under the white-haired Brit's nose. In an effort to hint him on, Dairu commented, "Yoshimata is, by far, the only one to realistically survey the situation _inside_ without disturbing them. We need to do this, in case there's something private going on in the inside. Trust us, it's for the best; he has read countless books on things like this." He stepped back with a grin, watching his friend slink forward with the exaggerated guile and grace of a cat.

The boy placed the side of his head against the door slightly, using the tips of his fingers to steady himself as he listened extremely closely. At the same time, the sounds _intensified_ as the voices grew louder. His blue eyes blinked once, and he seemed to absorb whatever information from the door he needed. He gave a polite shake of his head and stated presumptuously, "It's not what you think it is." And he thus took his leave of the hallway and the other Exorcists to go back to wherever he had come from; he had done his job, and done it well.

Everyone who was on the down low was shocked by this information, which meant that the previously mentioned Allen and Joseph were the only ones with straight, unsurprised faces. Yoko grabbed the door knob and opened the door with a quick turn of her wrist. Despite expectations of perversion and otherwise immoral behaviour, there was something else entirely to behold in the room: Sami and Lavi were jumping up and down on the bed with laughter and heaving breathes, all as giddy as little kids. Obviously, they did not give a single notice to the intruders at first, and they simply continued on with their jubilations. "You were right, Lavi! This is so much fun!" Sami giggled with complete joy as she bounced upon her bed, the springs continuing to creak.

Her companion landed once more and rubbed his head of the perspiration gained from who-knows-how-long of this. "Of course I was right, Sami; I would never do anything bad!" Then, he took notice that the sounds of their jumping were no longer projected just around the room, but instead into the outside world. Lavi looked up with breathless curiosity and saw the people who had entered his friends' room. A second later, Sami joined him in lying still on the bed, barely a foot away from each other on the rumpled light-blue covers, staring directly to their friends at the door. With a tune of humour in his voice, Lavi gave a sort of apprehensive greeting. "Hello, all; I guess you found us?"

The stares continued as Yoko was the one to simply stand at the door, in front of everyone, as the breacher of Sami's fun once more. _It looks like Sami's found another friend._ She, the stern side of this two-coin of friendship, had a choice: intervene completely and break up the fun as before, or simply ask them to keep the noise down. Redemption was made for such pretentious attitudes of the morning as Yoko gave them just a single request: "Would you mind keeping it down a little in here? You're distracting some of the scientists that can hear your ruckus all the way down in the labs."

At first, she merely received blank, confused stares from her friend and her partner. However, these soon evolved into grins of warm appreciation as Sami gave, in her own way, her forgiveness for Yoko's past grievance. "We will, don't worry. Sorry if we caused any trouble." Lavi was subtly playing with one of her pony-tails with his index finger, slightly twirling it in idle.

The door was closed, and Yoko could have sworn by her life that there was a rack of giggles let loose to compliment the awkward moment as a wonderful experience.

On the deck of the ship, Komui looked out to the horizon that was before him. The meeting was, by far, the strangest that he and his fellow Directors had ever experienced. While it was a suspicious event, it was otherwise concerning in another reason entirely: Why had Naomi stayed away? He had sent the prototype Hyper-Accelerated Motorized Shipper out to help her get along nicely about seven days before the meeting even started, and with the right conditions the ship itself could break the trip to North America in three days flat. However, she still did not come. That within itself was worry-some, especially considering the situation of the North American Branch and it's 'financial deficits'. Komui looked down to the water below and saw his reflection staring back up at him. Was he to assume the worst and simply let it be, or could he formulate an excuse to send in a few Exorcists to check on her? The Order had barely a dozen of them now, one of them being his beloved sister, but he did not think that it could take any more causalities now. There had been Exorcists in and out of the Order throughout the centuries, with the mass of their Innocence that was locked away within Hevlaska being passed on again and again until either destruction or abandonment in entirety. However, never before had there been such a volatile as a situation as the one at hand: _There are barely any of them left._ Even sending out a single group on a regular mission was risky, especially that now 1895 was now halfway over, and the end of the century was approaching. With every passing century, the Earl's forces grew stronger and bolder, and ever since the last one his movements had been erratic and unpredictable at best. _If the Noah saw this time to reveal themselves as full players in the Earl's machinations, then what else could come before we see the New Years of the twentieth century?_ In solemn prayer, Komui dropped his head in hope that he would never have to see what horrors that would be hidden even behind the Noah. Oh, ho he prayed to the sunrise.


	28. Chapter 26

A fog fell over the port as daybreak broke once more. A steamer-ship that was publicly owned by the Regia Marina, the Royal Navy, but was privately affirmed to the Vatican hobbled majestically with its momentary-fellows into the harbour. It gave birth nowhere, yet sailed everywhere where the crew was ordered to go. It was directly influenced by God's will and by Mother Nature's ample fuel supplies as it slowly but surely made its way into one of the harbours that dotted the River Thames. On a singular dock stood Lenalee Lee, Johnny Gill, and Reever Wenhamm, all catching wind of the breezes of the seas beyond. These three Britons were all territorials, standing upon the docks of the peoples that claimed the lands they hailed from. Lenalee and her arriving brother come from Hong Kong, while Reever and Johnny arrived upon different ships from Australia and New Zealand respectively. While their origins are completely different, they both know that their goals are the same and never far in between. So, anywhere else, the sight of a Chinese woman and two white men on a dock would have been stranger beyond all reason; however, to them, it was a normal occurrence throughout their daily lives.

Lenalee was the first to spot the RN_ Mittente Santo_ arriving through the morning fog. It was managing to avoid some smaller sailing ships as well as larger steamer-ships of relatively close design, although at the relative pace of the newest engine-technology on the markets. The speeds were as high as they could go, which, by the standards that the Order had seen, was _really god-damn slow._ Even she had to admit that it was an agonizing twenty minutes when the ship arrived to when it finally docked. However, she was soon relieved to see her brother appearing upon the port-bow of the steamer, a smile and a friendly wave to return to the ones she and Johnny gave practically automatically.

The frames of the ship were already banging against the wooden docks when the local dockhands hurried out of a closely-placed warehouse. Some were barking in Cockney accents, and others were simply undetectable by fame and region as their gruff demeanors mixed together in a hubbub. The variously stocked men took a hold of the bow-and-stern lines that were casted off by the crew on the decks and began to tie them down. Komui departed from the ship and was met with a hug by his sister, Lenalee. "Hello, hello, hello, Lenalee! How did the missions go?"

She could not help but smile at how her brother's voice bounced with a singsong attitude as it always did when they were away from each other for even a short while. "They all went well. We managed to retrieve an Innocence, while all the others were simply false alarms. The best part of all of them, however, was that the new Exorcists managed to survive and learn on their feet despite the frantically short training they received."

Simply the news of the survival seemed to take an imaginary weight off of Komui, with him breathing a sigh in relief and letting his shoulders drop. "Oh, thank goodness." _It was a despicable thing to send them on missions despite having barely a week of training. Well, at least they all came back alive and even victorious._ He gave a small wink of affection to his sister as a congratulatory 'well-done' under the sly to his part-time helper, and turned to Johnny. "Good morning, Johnny; how did your outfits fair-out on the missions?"

Of course that was the proper thing to ask; Johnny was renowned by his peers to not only be a very reliable scientist, but also a skilled, zealous tailor. He brought an incredible talent of hand-precision from the parish he worked upon in Christchurch, becoming a cost-effective stand-in for manufactured uniforms that were weaker in comparison to his seams. This was his pride, which allowed him to give his own boisterous smile. "They stayed in top-form, of course! I can at least do _that_ right, you know." Johnny rubbed his nose in material-bound courage, seemingly busting his chest out in a surge of heroism.

The now-returned Chinese man gave a nod of acknowledgement of his worker's talent, the next best thing to any man within the Order besides a raise, lenient job conditions or clean pants. With a switch of emotions that the mentally insane beggars of Jerusalem would be envious of, Komui looked to his Australian under-study whom seemed to be waiting on an edge of a seat with comedically timed contempt. "So, let me guess, you skimped out on the incoming paperwork entirely?"

Like clockwork: Reever nearly threw a fit in over-the-top outrage in response. "I did the work just like you told me to!" Managing to get control of himself, he mumbled, "No one can forget when you left Jerry in charge. It was absolute chaos: every laboratory was stocked with unnecessary amounts of food; the Third Room science and biological teams were reassigned by _his_ orders to help him in the kitchen. No one knew what to do, and we in the First Room had no choice but to do all the work by ourselves; all the other squads were too busy, or too scared to emerge to help us." He placed his right hand on his chest in a swearing-in ceremony for the rite-of-passage of temporary truth. "If anything at all, Chief, I swear that we were legitimately trying to do some blood-damn work." The wind blew past them, thus causing Reever's naturally-spiked blonde hair to flow, Lenalee's short and black pig-tails to waver, and Johnny's bushel of hay-coloured hair to rustle.

However, Komui's sleeked-back black hair did not waver in the slightest to the forces around them as he marched off with his friends in tow. He spoke carefully, to keep them inconspicuous as they were marching through the docks. "The meeting went off without a hitch, albeit there was a problem: North American Branch Director Naomi Alders did not arrive for the meeting, despite our lending of the new prototype. Has there been any letters from her?" The shake of Lenalee and Reever's heads was a disheartening response for him; he hated the idea that their latest advancement was not enough to bring her in time, with all its technological hasting. "Does anyone here have an objection to sending a trio of Exorcists to the Branch to see their current situation?"

They reached the gate to the dock-harbour before Reever mustered an equitable response; allowing himself to take in the choices they had at hand. "Well, there's the matter of allocation of resources, Chief. Should we really send three Exorcists, if one will suffice if there is absolutely no problem at all? What if it's just a false-alarm?"

Lenalee gave the counter-suggestion, "But what if it's not?"

None of them spoke until they entered the carriage that was waiting on the London road. It rested carefully on the asphalt as the driver read the latest _Islington Gazette_. The carriage coach was looking upon it with intent, marking him as a resident of the northern-part of London. What a long trek it must be for him, to go all the way across this spacious and wonderful city to earn a few pounds. However, when Komui and the entourage entered the carriage, he gave a gruff cough and a polite smile while he put down his papers to grab the ropes. The man had no clue as to who they were, or what they did, but all he knew that he had to do what he had to do regardless of what he truly wanted.

This resolve, albeit home-bred and learned from experiences that may have been met in fire and flesh, seemed to rub off of the Headquarters' director as he gave notice to the every-day courage. If someone who's only job was to ferry Britons across the London street-ways, why couldn't Komui do the same and take his own initiative? He rested his head against the window with a solemnity of resignation to the nagging feeling he was having, and gave the order. "Lenalee, please organize three Exorcists to send to the United States. Their priority is to see if the Branch is secure and everything is all right. I know that there is no real reason to send them there, but I would much rather be wrong than correct." He closed his eyes, letting his voice come down to a mild whisper of halted regret. "You may even access the files-database to place notes that they were going to the Washington, D.C. area to find an Innocence if you have to." The Chinese man dared not to look back at his companions, for he had discovered after more than fourteen years of work within the Order at any rate that he is not only easily influenced by other's emotions, but also very keen to not break rules he was supposed to abide.

* * *

Yoshimata felt a friendly shove to his right shoulder by his Turkish friend, whom was laughing heartily to a story told by Lavi. However, the shove caused him to lazily shake back and forth due to his morning-fatigue; _how was I supposed to know that that contraption near my bed was a clock?_ To be fair, Yoshimata has never settled down in one place long enough, let alone with his _friends_, to actually learn the English names of these modern amenities. What a bother. To satisfy the enthusiastic-belligerent, the Japanese teen simply gave a sort of worn smile as he tried to lower himself away from the far-too-early laughter and return to his meal.

It was never meant to be, him and that early breakfast, for as soon as he tried to place himself slightly away from the ruckus there was a call from all the way across the humongous cafeteria that contained not only his name, but also that of his newly found compatriot Allen Walker and his old-time bicker-buddy Joseph Columbo. The Brit was eagerly clamoring, shoving even, for the food to get into his mouth. Allen had taken two blueberry muffins, fourteen scones with an unknown brand of butter on them, four pasty's, six strips of bacon and managed to slurp them all down with just a few sips of his morning tea. The crumbs were everywhere, albeit mostly getting on the napkin that he had perched by nature upon his lap. Just as he looked up from another sip to hear the call across the way, the aforementioned Italian boy whom was sitting as far as possible from Allen, his British-ness and his monstrous penchant for tea thus what-not. Joseph was carefully slicing, nibbling and plain-old munching on the biscotti he had in front of him. It was tedious by the sight of a distance, but it seemed almost refined up close.

All three stood up slowly, with Joseph deterred by confusion, Yoshimata by his desire for more slumber, and Allen by his insatiable appetite for sustenance. Only Allen was in a hurry to join that voice, which turned out to be the voice of their mutual friend Lenalee, and all four moved on down the majestically crafted hallways for Komui's office. The Japanese teen among them began to notice the similarity with previous situations of enlistment: _Lenalee, or another, will come along to collect us altogether if we're all in one place, then take us along to the Director's office and give us our mission._ With an unearned sense of his wise calculations that, honestly, a five-year old could figure out, and peeked a small grin of satisfaction. It was not out of hubris or temptations at unearned pride, but out of simple inane joy of his discovery. Lack of sleep can do that to anyone.

When they arrived, there was the as-usually bespectacled Komui sitting down at his desk. His clothes were hardly ruffled, the bone-white tunic that he was uniformed to wear was as pristine as Allen could remember to the time when he joined the Order. Was it the November of 1894? Oh, how a year or so could change one's memory of something so grand. When all three of the called individuals sat down in the maroon-coloured chairs, the white-haired occupational-elder amongst them asked the first question. "What mission do you need us for?"

The Director leaned backwards in his large chair while letting the tips of his fingers brush just on the surface of some manila-folders that lay upon his desk. "Allen, Joseph, and Yoshimata, you three have been chosen to conduct a small expedition to the North American Branch. It's just a routine check-up for any signs of paranormal activities in the area, which is almost always telltale sign for the presence of Innocence. You already know this, Allen, from your past year of service." His thin-framed spectacles began to droop upon the bridge of his nose, so Komui promptly corrected them by a small push of his index finger. "You will land in the local port and find the North American Branch as soon as you can. Once there, you will survey the area as thoroughly as possible, with no lack for details; Director Naomi Alders shall debrief you upon arrival. Am I understood?"

Allen paused for a moment before raising his right hand by an acute angle. "I am sort of confused; can we look over the mission files for ourselves?"

At this request, Komui promptly took hold of the manila-folder, which, in actuality, was empty the entire time, and threw it behind his head towards a monstrous pile of paper work that was piled up behind him from previous days before his clandestine meeting. With monotonous regret, he said "Oh no, it seems I've lost it."

_How…annoying. _The British teen sighed in confusion, not having a single clue as to why in the world that information was just tossed like garbage. Lenalee, on the other hand, seemed slightly abashed by her brother's actions, shaking her head in comedic discern.

Interjecting but not seeming to be embarrassed like Lenalee or annoyed like Allen was, Yoshimata gave his own concern: "There's a problem with all of this: Joseph can't speak any English at all, he can only sort of understand it." He nodded to his left, toward the little figure sitting with a bored expression upon its face. "How's the weather, Joseph?"

"Sei un idiota," _You're an idiot._ so said the brown-haired boy, barely breaking an octave to respond.

There was no denying the fact that not a single person in this room spoke his language, much less anywhere close to his dialect. "See? Dairu is his translator, no matter where he goes or what we all do. Couldn't you just replace one of us with him, or take him off the team, Komui-hanshi?"

Adamantly thus, Komui said "No." However, inside his mind, Komui was calculating the effectiveness of this idea. In the file he wrote down for the small Italian boy, it was indeed written as Yoshimata had pointed out that Joseph could not speak a drop of English, yet could paradoxically understand it to a certain extent. There could be a chance that this could break down into madness due to the separation of languages between the team, but he could not afford to waste any more time on the separation of these team-members. _This is just a bad feeling; I can't worry about the obvious mistakes right now._ So, he personally escorted the three bewildered and confused young men to their boat, which was coincidently upon the same dock that he had arrived in just four hours before, and saw to it that they boarded the RMS _Isambard._

After Lenalee had given her usual warm 'good-luck's to the three, always starting with Allen as per her brand of friendly normalcy, she turned to her brother and sighed for the second time in the span of an hour. "This feels wrong, Komui. I just can't shake the feeling that this is bad, that we shouldn't be doing this."

_Even _she_ thinks this is a stupid idea. _Oh, how sunken could Komui's stomach get? Apparently, to the bottoms of the oceans that they travelled forth to different lands, for he gave as good as a smile as he could and answered, "Well, this could be by far the most idiotic thing I have ever done. However, it's best to be safe than sorry." He turned back to the departing steam-ship, watching it move as bravely as it could through the harbour's flat water towards the eventual horizon. "Let's just hope this won't be the _last _most stupid thing I've ever done." Komui rubbed his hands while they were placed behind his back, feeling ever so slightly for the knuckles for reassurance. This was a bureaucratically-bungled mess, yet he couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort as the three brave boys sailed off to false-danger in that distant land. Maybe they'll be able to relax for once?

* * *

If there were an award for how long one could sleep upon a boat, Allen would immediately hand it like the fabled sword of King Arthur's legends to Yoshimata. Throughout the entire trip from the United Kingdom to a bizarrely different port on an exotic shore, his new friend was either slumbering quietly in their cabin or eating lightly. This was strange, since Allen always knew himself as a lively sort of person with little penchant for relaxation that was not requested by his body or mind, not to mention sociable with anyone who was willing to chat. Yoshimata, on the other hand, seemed sort of the opposite. _He's always got his head down on that pillow, there, and when he wakes up he is always as tired as before._ That's not to say that the guy was a slacker of any shape; he pulled more than his own weight in Saint Petersburg, and from a passing comment by Dairu during the week that Yoshimata was in the hospital from his First Invocation it seems that he had taken up a sort of co-leader role in the group. What an odd fellow to lead them all the way across the seas, through the forests of the Louisiana, and all over the bogs that dotted them to find the Order. _Well, he's a good person at heart, and that's what matters the most._

When he heard from up-top about their course to a river between the shores of Maryland, something along the lines of the 'Anacostia' or what ever it was, he brought himself down from the deck to the carriage-bay to their room. Now, Allen could have sworn up and down on his Bible that Joseph was practically _humming_ a tune while sitting on his bed parallel to his own and the steeled wall, but the loner ceased upon the entry of the Brit. It was an awkward metre and a half to Yoshimata's slumbering-form as he felt a piercing glare to the back of his head by the kid, nearly so sharp that it could burrow through his bone-white hair and go all the way to the scar upon his face. Once his friend stirred, all three of them took their time to get up to the deck to watch for forty-five minutes their entry to the American harbour. There were native ships of minimal distinction, mostly looking crude or ill-thought of in terms of construction and power. To himself, Allen admired their own ship's elegance as it sailed past the ones they seemed to race to an open-dock, nestling between some other steamers. He could not help it at all; it was simply a wonderful way to ender this distant and obscure world.

The first thing to greet the few hundred mixed-passengers was the rattling forms of two flags: the forty-five starred-and-striped banner of the country and the smaller banner of a white-backgrounded, red triple-star and dual-stripped in parallel-ascending mannered-flag upon a wooden poll on entry-way to the town village. Allen looked at them once with little interest, and promptly looked to see how the others reacted. Yoshimata looked upon them with casual curiosity, not as to what the flags meant but more as why they were placed there in the first place; Joseph, on the other hand, ignored them entirely and continued scanning the vastly English-strong crowd he was surrounded by.

The chatter flowed through Allen's ears, and he caught some bits and pieces concerning their multi-coloured acquaintances. "Hey, is that their new flag or the old one? I read that they made that territory out in the west a state."

"Do you mean the one with all those Mormons and what-not? That was five months ago."

Suddenly, the first conversationalist Allen heard started giving a small laugh and gave a small jab to his side. "Could you imagine if we added a stripe for every single colonial possession that was acquired? It would be an absolute mess." Both broke out into large chortles as their own off-hand commentary grew to amuse them. Allen had no clue as to what they were even eluding to.

It took about ten minutes of wandering around the docks to decide to simply go in-land to find transportation to the Washington, D.C. What little notes that they were given were written either semi-legible or in chicken scratch as it were to be called, all pointed to a place upon Daryl Avenue that was 'around the middle of Washington, D.C.'. Both Yoshimata and himself debated back and forth to decide on who was to find the mode of transport. However, each of them held back in their marches as their second thoughts and lack of information on how to deal with this assignment as a whole threw them through loops. It was like walking forward, only realizing you have to walk back; then, when you walk back, you realize that you have no where to go and you have to walk _back_ to go forward again! Oh, what a roundabout of confusion this turned out to be! This went on for what seemed for_ever_, until they finally met a friendly enough farmer that was going on his way to the capital. The three Exorcists seemed weirdly out-of-place on the back of the horse-drawn carriage filled all the way to its wooden brims with bales of hay, but there was no complaining to say the least.

It took perhaps an hour and a half to reach the main city of Washington D.C. Allen saw multiple-storied buildings of plaster, brick, cement, and even boards of wood. There were flat roofs, roofs of tile, and roofs that led to even more rooms. A long line that morphed into another line after another line before that to the street's ways of buildings that jig sawed their build amongst the sky proved to be not only imposing, but also frightfully dull. Once they got off the wagon and handed a sort of tip of their remaining two American dollars for the kind sir whom transited them, Allen rubbed the back of his head in contempt. "The note Komui wrote points to Daryl Avenue, right?" He received a nod of understanding from Yoshimata and an empty stare from Joseph. "Well, then we should look for a street-sign around here!" He looked to the two corners of the world of the sidewalk, and saw a sign that wrote "Daryl St." right upon it, where it hung by the side of a local bakery.

Yoshimata was the first to point it out, and the three hurried along to find the building in question. Oh, how exciting this was! The first building of the Order of which he sought out for practically half a world over was a fantastical construct of a cathedral, rising towards the clouds with splendor of a kind he had never seen before. Inside it were people of scientific skills of kingdoms, republics and even colonies all across the globe, all working together in hallways with hallways, always with their hallways by their doorways. _What will this one have? It must be even better than the Headquarters, I'm sure!_ It was like a little mystery playing throughout his head, all the while paying little mind to the mumbles around him from the pedestrians who took note of his black and red-leathered clothing. He turned the corner, Allen and Joseph at his heels, and was faced head-on with a visual climax:

Disappointment. It was a normal road, with normal people walking it. Every single person wore not those uniforms of beforehand, but only everyday clothes that seemed rather closefitting. The buildings still looked basically the same; there was no monolith or god-sent building to protrude from the world like a shrine of defiance to the dark. It was nothing like the Headquarters at all; just another road to walk on with little to notice besides the pavement and the people. He looked back to Allen and tried to keep up hope of the day, saying "Perhaps it's hiding somewhere around here?"

A nod of encouragement, "You're right, it has to be here. This mission may be off its rocker, but there's absolutely no way Komui would hand us the wrong address." Allen pointed his gloved hand to the parallel walkway, "Go over there and look into the buildings; try and find any sort of unusual place, something that wouldn't _be_ here." His compatriot nodded and took the Italian with him to the other side. Now the glare wouldn't be as severe, he hoped. He began his slight trot down the cemented way, looking into and out of the buildings by their window's panes and sign's sayings. After a while, it became sort of surreal to Allen, to say the least. Inside one building was a standard food-shop with all the fixings aligned for sale, some even having protective covers over them. His boots continued to clack against the ground, and soon that world disappeared from his view and next he saw into a mechanics' store. There were tools abound, all hanging on walls and on show-cases to present themselves to the couple of men that wandered it in a daze of materialistic overwhelm. _It's like staring into different worlds._ Allen's mind gave to a little flight of fantasy, now imaging himself as a sort of a holy-observer that looked upon the people he was supposed to protect, but was forced to merely note their doings and move on to the next window of life.

Then, he realized the obvious: that is the life of an Exorcist in a nutshell.

* * *

Joseph, ultimately, was the one to figure out where the North American Branch was. The young boy walked a little ways ahead of his mild-faced companion due to the boredom of not being able to have someone translate his peckings and insults, and looked by chance into a large building to his right. It was a large one, yet entirely run-down and desolate at the same time. It was made the apparent-obvious as far as he could believe by the fact that every single other building on this block was either a convenience store or some other kind of service that was made perfectly honest by its outward advertisements and occupants. It took some cajoling in Italian to get the idea across to his fellow, but the message got through nonetheless. So, Joseph and Yoshimata waved Allen back from across the street to the front of the plainly-brick building, with windows as bleak as a grimey night. The three of them simply stood in front of it, looking upon it with hesitation.

"Do you think it has some sort of secret compartment?" Allen theorized to them.

With a shake of his head in doubt, "I'm do not know. It can't be a normal building, it just _can't_ be." Yoshimata tried to look through one of the front windows, seeing nothing but a plainly lit room inside. Once his eyes began to adjust to seeing darkness from the light, he could have _sworn_ that he saw a bunch of large squares simply lying about. "Should we just… go inside?"

Silence was the answer. Even Joseph looked a little weirded-out as they looked to the weakly crafted door. Thus, seeing as he was the senior among them and by that logic the bravest and their leader, Allen carefully opened the doors to the assumed Branch. Inside, however, he was met face-to-face with a missed swipe of a broom. Its bristles almost swiped his face, nearly touching the scar that went down from an inch above his left eye down an inch or two to his cheek. Needless to say, he was startled.

However, his attacker was less than enthusiastic about the large flinch that practically sent Allen barreling back into Joseph and Yoshimata's unprepared arms. The assailant fell backwards in the opposite direction, right back into the darkness, and began to do what seemed to be pleading. "Please, please, for the love of God, please don't kill us!" The ruddy-white coated man fell on his knees with his hands held over his thinly brown-haired head in hurried prayer, his tinny voice squeaking ever so slightly in fear. "We're just the North American Branch, you'd gain nothing from killin' or torturin' us!"

Right behind him next to a ruddy table-desk were two similarly clad men; one a white male with a large, rudimentary beard, and the other was slightly dark in skin-tone. The darker one said, in a monotonous type of surrender, "Yes, we give up. Take us to your leader." However, once the older man realized to whom he was talking to, his clumsily held-up hands fell down to his sides. "Martin, get up; it's not the Earl or the Akuma."

The sniveling, cowering man looked up while wiping some tears from his cheeks, seeing the three teens in front of him. "Oh, oh." As instantly as he was ready to surrender his entire being to the enemy that he thought he saw, the man rebounded to an air of confidence as he got back to his feet. "Welcome to the North American Branch! Sorry for the inconvenience and everythin'; we're the three out of four people that work here, so accommodatin' you will be sort of difficult." Upon closer examination, the Coward was in his mid-thirties, maybe elder-twenties with a pretty standard face. However, his cerulean eyes spoke wonders for him, being the very definition of confidence. He pointed his finger back to the two obviously elder men behind himself. Firstly, to the large-bearded one, "That's Isaiah Malory; he's like the gram-pa of the joint, here. Trust me, you'll get to trustin' him in no prob'." Then, to the darker, far-more critically gazing man to the left of Isaiah, "And that tall-dark-and-mysterious guy is Glenn Orwell. He's an Indian, so don't mind 'im any if he scares you."

The graying, bushy mane spoke again as two large hands lifted a pipe to a mouth somewhere inside it. "Evenin', gentlemen."

In polite succession, Glenn gave a solemn nod of his head, showing a remaining tussle of pitch-black hair. "The pleasure is mine."

And thus, it was Coward's turn to say his name, as per custom of name-greetings. "And if you really need to know, I'm Gerald Classmenheimer. Or, Gerald Class 'ill do." The greetings from him were over, so now his eyes were free to fully examine whom he was greeting just then, apparently not taking the time to do it before. When he looked upon their uniforms, the pieces seemed to fall together behind those almost-glowing eyes of his. The reaction was pricelessly over the-top, "Holy crap, look at 'im! The black and red, those gold crosses an' junk!" He looked over to his compatriots, whispering harshly, "Are they the Exorcists we always been hearin' 'bout?"

What a low-ringing chortle from Isaiah. "Well, of course they are, m'boy. If not, then you've just degraded yourself to a bunch of random strangers!" Another ring of baritone laughter that flew from the gullet.

From then on, Gerald seemed a little more courteous and thoughtful of his actions than he normally was. "I- I'm sorry, sirs, I had no idea it was you. Come on in, please, and let me close that door." When the three gradually complied, he closed the entry way and let those weak candles light the room they were in. He seemed to not only try and move away from these holy warriors, but also tried to come in a little closer to examine them further. The swaying he was doing was a definite article of these two conflicting emotions, almost like a metronome giving its ticks. With a wave to the table, he gave Allen a seat and asked as to why he was here to begin with.

"Well, we were sent here by Director Komui of the Headquarters Branch to 'investigate the area as thoroughly as possible'. He did not explain for what, exactly." _How embarrassing; I'm talking to him as if I have absolutely no clue to what I'm doing. And it's _true_!_

To this, Gerald showed not a hint of judgment despite being probably a decade and a half older than Allen was. Instead, he supplied a supportive comment, "Maybe the guy wanted you to just come down here? There's nothin' to see down here to be perfectly honest with you; the last Innocence that was found in the United States was probably back when that Manifest Destiny was still going on."

To reinforce the reason of idleness, Isaiah walked over to one of the room's walls to show a portrait of a rather large woman leading smaller figures of horse-drawn carriages, farmers with steeds and steers, and iron horses racing forward by railways against the darkness on the left. With a rub of his beard, the man explained, "This great piece of art is from John Gast, whom was one of the people that helped find the Innocence itself. He was so inspired by the idea that a piece of gorgeous holy-material was just waiting on the frontiers that he was hooked on the ideology of Manifest Destiny for this country." Isaiah rubbed his hand against the landscape of the portrait, going upon the detailed spruces and the pioneers with almost remorse. "Still, we lost track of Mr. Gast and do not know where he is today; we don't even know if the man is still alive."

A long bout of silence ensued, not so much awkward as it was reflective. It was clear to Allen now that he was the group-chosen leader of the discussion with the Branch members, even during such an enlightening moment just like that. Yoshimata hung about half a metre away with his hands behind his back, looking prime for talk but seemingly unable to do it on account of 'politeness'. Joseph was basically the same, only not as prim, proper, or even trying to look remotely interested in the situation. So, it would now be himself against three scientists clearly older than _he_ was, trying to figure out what to do. A spark lit inside the confines of his mind, enlightening him to what Gerald had mentioned before his introductions. "You said you are 'three of the four members', right? Where is the Branch Director, if not here with you?"

A deeply toned, gravely voice suddenly made its location known from the shadows, causing every Exorcist to nearly jump in surprise by the sudden intrusion and hard-core masculinity. "Missus Alders has been missing for the past two hours now. We know that she's in here right at this minute, but just won't stop hiding." Glenn tilted his raven-haired head to the side, trying to find the right words to say. "You can say that she is somewhat," A pause, "off. She insists on hiding like this, no matter what day or hour it may be. Once she gets in the mood to do it, she will do it with all her might and eventually we give up looking for her until she grows bored or hungry."

With a raise of his eyebrow, Yoshimata interjected. "'Hides'? How could she hide in a building like this?"

What a meek laugh that Gerald produced. "Well, you see here in the Branch, we don't have all those fancy cathedrals or giant laboratories and what-not. Here, we have only one thing that's really a-bunch: boxes." He leaned over to the underside of the table to bring up that which he had mentioned. One after another, dusty and similarly sized boxes made of cardboard were stacked upon the table until Isaiah made it clear that, on the other end of the wall he was making, Allen was getting the point loud and clear. "Well, that's just the truth right there. If you wanna know the truth, I think we were given this little crap-hole just to _hold_ these damn things. Our budget gets cut every damn decade to make room for other expensive _shit_ for the other branches-"

"Gerald."

"C'mon, Glenn, you know it's true! Hell, Is_aiah_, you've been around here since Jesus walked the damn land, right? You know how much you've been cut?"

Smoothly did the old man whiff from his pipe. When he spoke, small wisps of smoke filled the air around his beard. "I've got no opinion on that, m'boy. If the Pope sees that I need less money to do my job, then I got no choice but to do it with no money at all. That's what I think 'bout that." His lips nearly met with the pipe again, but a thought overtook him. "Perhaps we should stop worrying about dilly-dallies like that and instead focus on finding Missus Alders? It'd be for the best if we start lookin' as soon as possible for the little phantom before she gets too involved with her game." He waited for neither the Exorcists nor his co-workers, for instead he marched along with heavy footsteps towards a door that led further inside the building. A single wave of his right hand gave the proper motivation for everyone to follow him, even the stranger Exorcists. He led them to an intersection between all the rooms, the other end of which was connected to stairs for the upper-part of the building. They continued on down the hallway until they reached the third door to the left, which is where the large man told them to halt. "If I know the Director, and I believe I do, she'll probably be in this room right here. I see absolutely no reason as to why she would not be in here; this is where she hides most of the time, I would have to recollect."

Isaiah twisted the knob and opened the door, overlooking a room filled with the Branch's apparent purpose. Wall to wall except for a small breach of closure in empty flooring, the boxes dominated the entire room to the point of being shown by a hanging-light bulb off of the wood ceiling. There was an eeriness to it that could and did unnerve the unfamiliars' to the building's dark theme itself, but not to Isaiah. He looked upon the silently dismal spectacle as if it were a mere jest, a faux pas in the way of a broader goal. A brief moment that allowed him to clear his throat with a tremendous rumble, then he put on a nice little act to draw out his superior officer from her hide-away, if she were even in here. "I guess there are no ghosts in here, my friends. Yes, indeed, there is absolutely nothing to be said that is out of place here." His faked, loud speech lowered itself to a mumble of implication as he bended down towards the huddle of boxes in front of him. "Unless, of course, the box-ghost would like to _scare_ our guests, three young Exorcists?"

That caused a stir. A head popped out of a box, revealing the gazing eyes of a womanly brunette with glasses, and a simple message to bear: "Boo."


	29. Chapter 27

The levitating woman's head came of no surprise, bar Joseph and Gerald whom let out twin shrieks of sincere terror. This was like candy for a toddler to the faux-apparition, causing her to give a laugh of joy to her success. "Alright, alright, you found me for once!" She climbed out of the two-by-four or so box, revealing the five-foot six form of a quite real young woman. Her eyes glittered with her scattered chuckles that were born of her victorious bellow a moment before, and her long, brown hair gave little springs with their reverberations. When the woman finally realized that there were three younger men in her midst that stood just behind Isaiah and Glenn in two-thirds contentment one-third recovering from fright, she gave them an acknowledgement. "Hello, who're you?"

With a quick look to his left, Allen saw that Yoshimata was looking for him to say something of significance. This was a peculiar situation for Allen due to the fact that for the past few years he had Kanda, Lavi, or Lenalee along with him to help. Sure, sometimes he bickers with Kanda and his disagreeably semi-nihilist attitude on life or Lavi with his rogue-gone-wild esteems, but they still were professional Exorcists when Allen had started out. Now, he was standing in the middle of some darkened room with two rookies sitting at his heels, both looking to him for guidance as he had done for his own wary friends oh so long ago.

_It's just like that little newspaper story!_ His mind exclaimed that thought with absolutely childish remiss. Long ago in the long-ago time of barely a month ago, Allen was on vacation within the British colony of Bermuda; however, whenever he ever went out of Headquarters before it would have been on official business, and not this unexpected and frankly _unwarranted_ holiday. Still, he had to find something to do for what amounted to be a month of actually unnatural Bermudan humidity and useless water (he had little money, and not enough to purchase the swim-wear he did not possess). With all of these detracters brawling in his mind and to the fact that Allen Walker is a seventeen-some old boy from desolate beginnings on the streets of London, there was only one logical solution to this concern of boredom: reading the newspaper. Indeed this idea was a grand gambit with his worry that the print would be too small or be too daft for his liking, but it actually proved to be a lot of fun! For the entire stay, there was this one anonymously submitted multi-part story about a group of comedically bumbling British soldiers fighting to survive in an actually hilarious parody of the American Revolt. Long story short there was a squad of young buffoons whom followed the orders of their sure-headed leader, and he made sure that each man kept following the right paths despite their follies. It was one of the most hilarious things he had ever read in his spare time (but that is not saying much, since vacations by themselves were unorthodox) and the brave and suave captain became a sort of print-to-life hero for the socially awkward, unrounded and hard-pressed teenager within Allen. _Maybe I can be just like him?, _the question whispered within the back of his mind; he was far across the Atlantic Ocean where no one could see his childish ruse. So, to fit himself a bit better to the role, Allen did his best to straighten his back and reaffirm himself as well as he could to try and impersonate some sort of commanding official. "We're here on official orders by Director Komui to check in on the North American Branch." And in almost record time for regretting tomfoolery: barely after the word 'branch' left his mouth did Allen feel like a total jester.

It did not help that immediately after his little 'soldiering' play-along, the woman tipped her head to the side in simplistic curiosity. "Komui sent you?" Her nonchalant reaction spelt embarrassment for Allen, whom tried his best to contain his nervous blush since she seemed so informal compared to him despite the fact he normally was _not_ formal! The woman stepped out of the box to get a closer look, her framed-glasses suggesting some sort of vision impairment. "Why in the world would Komui send you all the way over here to America just to check on us? He could've just sent a telegram, a note, or-" She stopped in mid-sentence, and a dark glower grew over her face as well over her voice. "Oh, so _that's_ why." Direct Naomi Alders seemed to force her way past the Exorcists with a force of anger and fury that humourously overwhelmed their physical significance as powerful human beings and caused her weakest underlings to disperse like rats (being that only Isaiah remained). The whole group followed the angered woman all the way up the rickety old stairs and through another set of dreary upper-level hallways to a room that was, of course, boarded up except for small and almost specific beams of light that went through the glass windows. Naomi took her seat behind a desk that had foregone any work or overtly necessary fixings as of recently. Almost immediately did she reach over to a nicely-opened envelope with its parcel still inside and hid it in a drawer; she did it with such ease and dexterity that not a single one of the entering Exorcists even knew it was there. The ease of her movements soon were took over by emotionally-dramatic exaggerations; her hand took hold of a nib-pen, dipped it into some ink from a small reservoir-glass, and began to scrawl across a piece of parchment in complete silence.

Isaiah, being the elder of them all and by that logic inferior to only Director Alders herself, stepped forward from the darkness and let a little light shed upon his brown-leathered shoes. "Ma'am, are you feeling alright?"

Even though she gave an outward impression that she hardly cared for what he had said, Isaiah still received his desired response. "I am perfectly alright, Isaiah." Another scrape upon the paper to punctuate her 'alright'-ness, "This is simply a correspondence letter to Chief Director Komui Lee in response to _his_ concern about _my_ Branch." She wagged her head once in amusement at the thought with an accompanied sinister chuckle. Placated, Isaiah took his leave by casually strolling towards the door for somewhere unknown.

Allen looked to Yoshimata and gave a small whisper of inquisition, "Do you know what's going on?" His companion shook his head and mouthed a negatory. His Japanese friend did not seem inclined to further incur the obvious wrath of the woman in front of them, so it would be up to Allen as the senior Exorcist in the room to try and find a solution to their long journey that seemed to insult her. "Miss Alders?" She looked up slightly, having stopped two moments before to tap her fingers in contemplation. "Why are you so angry? I thought he sent us over to handle something important." He gave a small shrug of unknowing. "Sure, it was a bother to come all the way across the pond to see you, but I think it'd be better that we talk to each other, to get to know what is going on, right?"

With those kind words offered by the British visitor, Naomi began to calm herself down. A quick breathe of fresh-air to stifle the urge to throw the newly-formed parcel all the way across the Atlantic Ocean let the Director reorganize herself in a more mature manner than she was acting in, and she gave a nod of agreement. "You're right. What's your name?"

"Allen Walker, Madame." He said it like a human being this time instead of like one of Komui's mechanical, laboratory creations or a child being a tough-guy.

She nodded her head in confirmation. They shook hands like grown adults with the understanding that they would unravel this conundrum. The brunette Director showed the Exorcists to some seats, and she ordered her remaining workers to busy themselves in some way; it hardly mattered how.

* * *

Meanwhile a few hundred miles away, Yoko Kyoukan was living her life as normal as she could. Well, as normal as living in a humongous cathedral surrounded by unbelievable technologies sent by God through these strange men in white coats. Her remaining friends shared their honest opinions over this day's breakfast, with the notable person-exception of Joseph and Yoshimata, who were off with Allen on a mission. _Well, Allen is probably already used to this place, so I guess he wouldn't be as surprised as we are._ The first one to respond was Sami, who said that the place was like a wonderful painting brought to life; it was filled with amazing things, and plenty of friendly people that seemed to be completely fixated on helping them out. The other member of their small, globetrotting circle, Dairu, also weighed in his thoughts.

He, on the other hand, was more poignant then Sami; his eyes betrayed a small flicker of doubt that remained, if only a bit cautious of their situation. "It seems to be rather odd, no? They picked us up from the ground and gave us a one-minute brush-off. In the _next_ minute after that, we had our most precious things taken from us, put through some sort of incomprehensible process, and now we are here." The Ottoman Turk lowered his head slightly, dipping down to take a bite out of the freshly-made bread he ordered from the kitchen. He swallow, then said "And after that, they gave us barely a week's time to train, let alone a few _minutes_ of training the first time we got these weapons, and they called all of that 'all the training we needed'!" He took another bite out of the bread and gave a look specifically to Yoko. "In the Greek Army, how many days did it take to train new recruits?"

This question, especially coming from a Turk, perked her interest quite a bit. She raised her eye-brow in contempt and said "We gave them several weeks of basic training if they were regular ground-infantry, but it varied on conscription or specific duties." Yoko lowered her head in contemplation of his question, but only out of suspicions she was trained to have growing up. "And why exactly would you like to know this information?"

Hands up in the air by shoulder-length. "I was just wondering! You are the only one among us with significant European-orientated training, so the thought occurred to me that perhaps their training regimine would be mimicked by the Order." He gave a polite shrug to try and disperse the bad mood. "So, apparently the Order is not up to Greek standards in terms of training new recruits; does that concern you?"

The kindness of Dairu's words allowed for Yoko to tame her subconscious prejudice like the veracious lion it was. Out came a sigh of relieved stress, and she began to relax herself. "You're making a fine point, I have to give you that." She made a quick look to the left to see if any of the other Exorcists were within earshot; _No one._ To her left towards a different table of Finders, _And no one._ All of the Finders were too busy laughing at some unknown quip, while the Exorcists were making small-chat amongst themselves. "Now that I think about it, a lot of the Order's members seem to be unfit for their duties. Look at the Finder's first." She gave a subtle nudge of her head to the men that usually wore tan-clad robes and various equipments but now were out of uniform and now in casual dresses. "Some of them seem to be in top physical form, and all the others seem to be only partially adequate; however, all of them are adult men, at proper age for service in combat." Now, an even further muted nod to the opposite direction, towards their black-and-red cladded compatriots; "However, not a single Exorcist is up to age, except for that pale chap over there." Arystar Krory was that very man, meekly cutting a piece of unidentifiable meat on his far-side of their table. "It seems to be a real mix-up here; those men should be the ones fighting these Akuma, not us. Why would a Catholic organization make children-near-adults like us fight? Could we not just give our weapons to them so that those of us too young to be in battle can sit out and not be in this kind of danger?"

Now, even Sami seemed concerned by this apparent moral lapse, despite being apparently absent-minded to these broader issues. "It _does_seem weird. Lavi-kun didn't tell me how old he was, but he can't be older than nineteen." A quick scoop of the chocolate ice cream in front of her made Sami go silent for two seconds. In worry, she gave a whispered confession; "He's young, yet he already wears an eye-patch. Did- did something happen to him because of the Order?"

"No, not really." Lavi appeared from no-where standing directly behind Sami and Yoko, whom were looking to the opposite side of the table where Dairu was.

The sudden, not-so-much dramatic entrance of that rambunctious red-head caused all three of the group to react in surprise. Yoko was the one to speak once the shock wore off, "How much did you hear?"

He gave out a light-hearted laugh, as if their concerns should be considered ridiculous by default. During this little guffaw, he said "Practically everything! And even then, you shouldn't try and hide your worries, especially when you're in the cafeteria. The only time you should keep your mouth shut and 'keep your mind holy' is when the Vatican sends someone competent here, or when you're out in public." His visible eye gave a hinting wink to them. "But don't worry, both are really rare."

Dairu intervened with a thought. "Being in public is rare for an Exorcist?"

A nod. "About a year ago, before our number of Exorcists became as little as they are right about now, we were required by the Rules of Exorcism to openly display our uniforms as a way to lure out any Akuma whom may have disguised as humans." He noticed that Sami offered him a small bite of ice cream on the sly, and he gladly accepted it. "Don't worry about doing that; now we're so few in number, we are suddenly worth more then ever before. Instead of just marching out in the open, we now try to covertly pick out the enemy, or by confronting them at areas where there is a suspected Innocence or at least no public notice. Although we have crack-teams of brilliant scientists and Finders searching areas of great folk-lore or strange occurrences around the clock, the Akuma somehow manage to find these locations at least at the same time we do." He seemed to sway in place due to discomfort from standing up for so long, but at the same time did not want to take a seat.

A look in her dark eyes seemed to show that the haste of their strategy was important, at least in some respects, and that it was all coming together for Yoko. "You're right, Lavi; everyone's first mission took place as far away as imaginable: I went to an abandoned factory in Belgium, Yoshimata went to a closed cathedral in Russia, Dairu and Joseph went into an ancient castle in Portugal, and Sami took a boat into the canals of Paris."

Lavi broke out into an embarrassed blush and started to scratch the tip of his nose. "Well, we went to some of the local bazaars after the mission was over." This prompted a quick thought in Yoko, which was _How did he learn about how I reacted to that?_

But, instead of showing that emotion, she decided to play it cool and sip her cup of tea. Then, a shrug, "Just as long as it's after the mission, all right?"

An exaggerated stage-sigh. "As you wish, Madame; I'll have her home before noon, you have my word as a gentleman." Lavi's little performance was flawless as a submissive suitor; it caused Sami to openly giggle.

"Yeah, yeah." She went back to eating, playing along as the high-strung-yet-resistant Madame.

On the other end of the cafeteria from where they were eating, the doors were opened to reveal Yu Kanda and noise Marie walking in a straight-line for the table with the new Exorcists. Noise is taller than Kanda by a long-shot, as well as far bulkier in terms of muscle-mass. He, however, followed the lead of Kanda, whom was now merely ten metres away before Lavi opened up. "Hello, Yu! I see you're no longer a chocolate bunny!"

That small, verbal jab earned the head-band wearing teenager an angered glance from his comedic target. Obviously, the public humiliation in being covered in sweetness was going to follow him everywhere. For even but a second, the anger in Kanda's eyes seemed to growl _Which limb should I remove first? It'd help to make an example of him for the other's._However, he did not dare say these bloody threats. Instead, his footsteps on the ceramic blue-tiled floor transformed fro ma light military march to a boot-stomping from Hell.

He reached the precipice of the table, and despite his obviously sour mood and even worse demeanour, he managed to grunt a small greeting. Whether that greeting was "Hi", "Hello", or "Good afternoon" is left to anyone's fair guess. "You're Yoshimata Hakitawa's friend, correct?"

The question caught Yoko off-guard, so she looked from him to her friends; he was definitely looking directly at her. In apprehension, she put down her bread and looked him right in the eyes. "Yes, and what do you want?"

"Do you know where he is?"

She raised her eye-brows in increased suspicion. "He was sent on a mission to the United states with Allen and Joseph a few days ago. Why didn't you know that?" She leaned forward to get a closer look at the man just around her age at eighteen. "And why do you want to know that, exactly?"

In return, Kanda narrowed his eyes to show how determined he was. He would not be deterred. "I was in the laboratories non-stop, getting that damn chocolate off my entire body. They finally got it off this morning." There was a temptation to lie, but instead he decided whether she knew or not was a completely moot point; he would not be deterred. So, as if he were simply stating a cute, little fact of the day that you would hear from a grandmother or an adorable little child, he said "I want to duel him once he returns."

After taking a moment to absorb this information, Yoko continued to apply pressure to know why he would seek such a match. She had seen him and his speed in the forest before, well outside of the Order's headquarters. The speeds this strange man could reach would well rival both hers and Yosihmata's _combined_. Besides, Yoshimata was away on a mission and would never hurt a fly unless provoked; _Why does he want to fight him, then?_ They continued on like this for who knows how long, with Kanda and Yoko squaring off in an attempt by one to grasp information about this dueler's intent from a steel-cage mind, and the other trying to keep the cage from accidentally opening.

* * *

Indeed, it was a long way to go for them. Meanwhile, however, Dairu and Sami had finished their meals and were off on their separate ways. Sami looked back as she was walking away from the table, seeing how Kanda and Yoko were still talking to each other as if they were both constables interrogating the other. _Well, there's no stopping them once they start, I guess._ So, she left the two to return her plate to the kitchen for washing. Jerry the Chef was the very man to greet her there, and in typical fashion began to over-flow with effeminate 'you're welcomes' to his new found friend. So, about three minutes after returning her plate, Sami managed to tear herself away from the similarly over-enthusiastic chef and made her way towards her room. By the time she was only one hallway away she could see Lavi waiting patiently for her, leaning right by the door. ""What're you doing here, Lavi?" she asked in curiosity.

He lowered his head in casual greeting, but he did not try and speak before she was just at the door. "I heard _you_ as well, you know." With a smile to disarm her after she let a small gasp leave her lips. In a quick motion to halt her before she entered the room, he positioned himself in front of the door and placed his left hand behind his back, onto the brass door-handle. Whispering quite softly yet still maintaining his friendly tone, "You don't need to worry about me getting hurt. Even if I do, we both know it would be for our friends, I swear it." Just as those words left his lips, he paused to look straight forward in realization and let out a small chuckle. "The Old man always says only an idiot would make pledges like that. I like to think they're true, though; it makes the job all the more worthwhile."

But his reassuring words were not enough to squelch her concern; she pressed on. "But why're you using that eye-patch if you're not hurt?" Her hand moved up to his face, rubbing the cheek up to the first black strap in visible awe. It was as if she had just appeared before him, and had only now begun to see him and that black hill that covered his eye.

Luckily, Lavi was able to keep his composure to make himself appear nice and steady, all the while his heart began to pick up a race. His voice did not dare to waver from a normal, friendly tone or reveal his sudden heartbeats. "It's not a wound, Sami; my eye is just a little bit special, that's all. Think of it as, as-" his voice trails for a moment as he seems to think about it for just about the first time in the entire time he's had it. Then, "As a secret weapon, all right? You need not worry, Sami." A broader smile formed upon his face, and he took her hands into his so the reassurance would be compounded between them. Also, he needed to remove her hands from his cheek or he would blush like a mad-man in winter.

His luck ran strong, for she accepted his hands and help them in the space between them, albeit in a shy-strength. "All right, if you say so." And just then, Lavi could have sworn her deep, brown eyes sparkled like the clearest water in the world, and that the warmth of her smile melted some of the ice that formed over any human heart in worry and doubt. Now _that_ was something worth fighting for.

* * *

In spite of her previous behaviour, Naomi Alders managed to allow herself to look over her new arrivals. They had impressive mannerisms: the white-haired Brit, Allen Walker, seemed to take the head of the trio in a sort of way that a bigger brother would carry himself amongst his youngers. On the other hand there was the second companion whom seemed most Asiatic than everyone in the entire city, yet was just as Anglo as Allen himself, and just an inch or two from as tall; his name was Yoshimata, and seemed to be the thoughtful brother that merely chirped in out of observance or necessity to help the elder. By the looks of it, he was a well-enough person in the form of conversation, but seemed withdrawn from it for some unknown means; perhaps he is a new Exorcist? If that were the case, then it would probably be the same with their smaller, brunette-haired partner whom held a sort of suspicious look in his eyes as if he had only half-a-clue as to what everyone was talking about.

Regardless of such a weird group they seemed to form with their at-odds personalities and the fact that two-thirds of it was comprised of practically pristine new-comers, Director Alders now knew that she was in the presence of those whom would fight and die for her if it so came to it; she would act respectfully even if that were not the case, of course. "About five and a half days ago, a person whom claimed to be a Black Order scientist arrived in the usual back-water harbour we 'commissioned' with almost no fuel left in his boat, and half out of his wits with worry that he was spotted with such an out-standing looking piece of machinery when compared to the other ships on the water. When we finally calmed him down, he explained that he had been sent to take me to Europe for a meeting of the Directors." Her eyebrow raised inquisitive rage as she began to choke her own knuckles. "Unfortunately for him, he had run into mechanical troubles as well as fuel troubles, which meant that I would never arrive in time for a trip that would take perhaps _days on hand_."

This seemed to surprise Yoshimata, whom for once made himself apparent in existence by asking, "But if the conference was only days away, why did you not leave for it to begin with?"

Naomi shook her head in remorse. "Apparently, not a single person cared to let me know about a reschedule for the meeting." She took out a small calender, and turned immediately to December. "It was supposed to be in one month, but somehow the secreted message never seemed to arrive. So, not only am I officially humiliated by my peers for missing a letter of such grave importance when it could turn up God-knows-where," The waving of her hands in exaggeration of huge proportions cemented her argument. "But also I had to find a place for that scientist to stay until we could figure out how to exactly fix a machine whose private-schematics are all the way _back in Britain_! And do you know who exactly is charged with telling me these things, and was responsible for _sending_ that scientist?"

With a drop of sweat that creased across his left temple, Allen knew immediately whom would be so drastically forgetful, even o the point of sending a heart-felt and sincere 'rescue mission', even when it was his fault entirely for the problem in the first place. "Komui."

In exasperation, the Hispanic-American woman gave a clap of her hands in once-applause and pointed her left index finger into the air. "Bingo! You know our idiot!"

To these two regulars of the Chief Director's both childish antics and forgetful attitude, this was fanfare unto personal forgiveness for the man's momentarily intolerable behaviours. However, Yoshimata simply could not understand as to how they could be like this when there was such huge problems at hand. "What will you do now, if I may ask? Will you be reporting Director Lee for this?"

Even in this state of exhaustion, Naomi managed to give a very vocal "Huh?"; the thought had never crossed anyone to report the good-hearted man for his down-fallings, even if they backed up so much in bureaucracy or efforts. This helped solidify the suspicion that he was a new recruit for the Director, since she had never known anybody to talk about actual rules when it came in time for Komui's forgivable failings. _I've gotta say _something_, though, or this kid might just do something if no one explains it to him._ So, she leaned forward slightly to clasp her hands in front of her bespectacled eyes. "Listen, it's not that much of a deal; sure, I feel utterly embarrassed because that chronic imbecile can't keep his mind straight and on task sometimes, but that's alright! He's Komui! He works long and hard to make sure that any _serious_ work, like something that could save or kill an Exorcist or whatever; he is right on the ball then, and he never gives up even when the person is safe and sound." Naomi gave a soft smile at the remembrance of how hard that man had worked when quite literally all the Exorcists were trapped in the Millennium Earl's trans-dimensional Ark back on the Japanese islands; Bak said that he had to give real thoughts to having to intervene during and almost five hours _after_ the crisis had proceeded, for the sake of Komui's well-being. Every single person whom had worked with him, whether it had been as a colleague in the Traditionalist Academy constructed for the teaching of Branch Directors within the British-soils of Hong Kong or any single professional at his hard-earned position as the Chief Director of the Black Order Headquarters could attest to the universal trend of Komui's competence and bouts of under-competence. "You try to think of him as a superior and as a superior alone, don't you?"

The mild-accusation seemed to catch Yoshimata off guard; in turn, he bowed his head in submission. "You are right. I had no prior occupation before this, or any way to prepare for the duties that were laid before me." His voice gave no hint of lying, instead it was impregnated with humility and remorse. "I'm sorry."

In an effort to calm his new friend down slightly, Allen placed his own right hand on Yoshimata's left shoulder right above the Rose-Cross insignia. "Don't be so, Yoshimata; I doubt anyone in the world could be prepared for our jobs." He threw in an endearing smile just to seal the deal, "You'll learn fast, trust me."

This cavalcade of seemingly off-topic proportions that ranged from Chief Director Komui Lee's comedic negligence all the way over to Yoshimata's misinterpretations of regular-job scenarios in place of some kind of protocol within the Order's higher calling was interrupted by the poignant yawn of Joseph Colombo, who had sat and done not a single thing when they entered the North American Branch. For whatever reason, this gave Director Alders something to giggle at out of sheer need for a necessary segue to bridge the conversation to its end. They needed to get back home to the Headquarters, after all.

So, with a swift finishing of the letter she had started before in undetermined rage but now was ending in righteous rancor, Naomi knew she would be able to intimidate even her stall-hearted friend. When Allen, the one she trusted to deliver the letter due to his seniority in age and experience, had asked her what exactly she wrote down the Director could only give a contemplative smile and a preposition that "it'd be best if Komui read it; it'd lose its' meaning if anyone else did". She knew that she had creeped the group out once again, but she could not help it: Komui had managed to corrupt her to be just as insane as he was. To justify this brief lapse into her own whims, Naomi pulled some strings within the local harbour-system to acquire some loose-landing tickets for a trip back home for them. It was a good thing too, for the ship had almost just sailed off without the three precious passengers and without Naomi and her staff waving a fond farewell.

On the boat's deck two out of the three Exorcists gave smiles back to the North American Branch, all of whom sans the rackety shack they holed up in were giving them the same in return for their kindness and understanding during this debacle. Now, the three Exorcists were given several more days of weird-eyed glances at their cross-holding leather clothing that made them obvious and apparent, as well as several more days of either sleeping or boredom upon the high-seas'. With a sigh of slight amusement to the waters below after he shook his head, Allen was at least thankful that this mission was at least peaceful; no one would go home with bandages, no one was going to cry. Everything was as it should be in the world, albeit one unread letter of unimaginable-written consequences for Komui was steadily on its way with them.

* * *

It only took Naomi a few seconds to choose a best-looking outfit. Of course, that took so little time because she could only afford one set of formal clothing; all of her other clothes were simple, manufactured uniforms bought in bulk by the Order. The outfit itself was a nicely-frilled dress that was mainly white, but the ridges were overwhelmingly yellow, so that when she stepped out into the gray streets she would at least brighten the world up a little. She hailed a taxi to pick her up, and she made her way to the location that the letter had asked her to go to: the center of American democratic leadership, rebuilt from the ashes of its predecessor building almost a hundred years ago. She was off to the Presidential Palace, the Executive Mansion, The White House.

The trip amounted to a ten-minute drive through the outer limits of the city, where she was located, right into the heart of the capital itself. Buildings varied from Greek-styled architecture to that sort of bland 'American' style that, while a national treasure, seemed artistically castrated when compared to some of the beauties even just across the borders in either direction. Then again, there would be no arguing with the will of the people; blandness may reign as beauty. Anyhow, the entry onto the grounds took about seventeen minutes by itself, with the armed guards at the gate checking her identification twice and her invitation thrice. But that was merely six minutes; the second time she had to go through this ate away the rest of the minutes when she was inside at the lobby. While the guard was checking her invitation against a pet-list of important persons, both publicly known and privately acknowledged. Naomi was so anchored by boredom that she could not help but let her eyes wander across the room, wall-to-wall. Adorned upon these walls were portraits of the presidents of long past, as well of their wives or notable aides. Eventually the three tall, overbearing white men allowed for her, a diminutive Hispanic, to walk for the innards of the House. Accompanied by guard escort, of course.

The quiet mountain of a man led her not for the Main Office, but instead to the middle of the first floor, where there was a mahogany door ajar with a large visage of red light, coned into the dark hallway. While Naomi continued to approach the door without hesitation, the guard seemed to back away in instructive humbleness. Naomi opened the door just a crack more then the crack it was already in to look inside the dimly lit room. A spun purple-and-gray carpet covered at least half of this dark-blue room, and various objects owned their places on the wall. Within two feet of the fireplace did the carpet end; on the outside of its reach stood the contemplative figure of President Grover Cleveland. There he stood, looking over the fire in a somber gaze of meditative thought. When his short by plump body turned, the ice in his hand clinked against the glass walls of their alcoholic prison. Since she was the one to enter the Executive Mansion on invitation, it seemed by the rights of guest-and-host that she should initiate the inevitable conversation. "Good afternoon, Mr. Cleveland."

At last his mustachioed face came to life. His greeting was one he managed to just whisper. "Hello, Miss Alders." Grover stepped way from his spot near the burning fire towards a larger case of alcohol. When his guest declined the nice beverage, he simply made his way back to his destined spot near the fire. Although his voice rose, it still sounded cracked and weak, somewhere between holding back tears or a mild-mannered scream. "I assume you heard of my bad teeth last year? It wasn't that much, but after the economy of this fair land crashes into flames, I find myself here in private every week, wondering about how the public can still find independence and bravery in me. I certainly can't." A deep drink from his glass seemed to renerve him, so he put the glass on the top of the wood shelf that overlooked the fireplace. "Sorry about that, ma'am. Now, I do wonder if you know why I cordially invited you here?"

She gave a small smile to show that she was without ignorance. "Is that group of thugs of yours so good that it figured out three Exorcists had entered the country before I had even the tiniest inkling they were even on American soil at all?"

He gave a small bow of his head and a wave of his hand in a small twirl of very sarcastic nobility. "I'm glad that their reputation proceeds them." He stood straight again in fine stature. "They're just small-time privates, don't think they'll be around to wreak havoc on my friends and enemies."

Naomi raised her eyebrow, her smile long gone. "But why were you looking for my Exorcists, Mr. Cleveland? It's rather odd for investigators acting like some sort of secretive unit; seems rather imposing on others, don't you think?"

Grover nodded his head, simultaneously rubbing his mustache as he looked directly into the fire before him. The President was enthralled with the flames' mobility and ease of life. All the fire had to pray for was either a few more branches of wood or just an easy burn-out death. The days ahead were like a watchful man with a bucket of water, watching the fire known as Stephen Grover Cleveland in the most wicked of ways. That foreign spot on the top of his mouth scared him a mighty bit, and he may not be around for the future. It's only fair, so he began to speak his mind for the truth in what seemed to be a long time. _If a man is to be bound by his word, then I'll be bound by this: a confession of my thoughts of this crazy world._ He would talk as if he were talking to his closest childhood friend, his best-tempered colleague, or even to his own wife. "Miss Alders, I fear for you and your Order. Ever since James Madison was forced to submit to the Address of Pius, the United States has stood by its promise to turn a blind eye to the Catholic Church's designs." His breathing became heavy, even for just a moment. "The republic has since been giving birth to further malevolent ambitions as its power grows. I, amongst others, have tried our best to preserve the peace and to promote prosperity by means of politics and secular activities. But there are those whom are vipers who seek control, Miss Alders. They see the things I try to hide from them, and I have no idea where they get the information that's supposed to be in the hands of only the few. Ma'am, even Aldai is scared stiff, if you want to know how my Vice President is. Poor man is looking to the horizon for when the Hell he and his formers have taken on in that office. Their only job seems to take in all of the terror they can muster about-" his voice fades as he realizes that the door is still ajar. Naomi took the hint; this was no longer a meeting between friends, it was now a relay of private desperation that must be heard.

"Soon, a President will be elected without respect for the Address, and he will seek the power for himself. Those 'investigators' might just be only a taste of what could happen. They were only four; imagine a hundred, or a _thousand_. Two organizations, even, filled to their brim with instinct to divide and conquer, to stab in the back, to be ruthless beyond all means in the name of their leader. From east to west, they would not stop until the power their master orders them to find is finally within his palms, and they will continue to practice on the monarchies over-sea's until the kings, queens, princes, princesses and all the loyal citizens of their countries are put up for the ax's thirst for blood." He raised his hand towards his companion, not in accusation but in warning. "Be on your guard. I can only hold them back so far, but I face an uncertain future." With a turn of his head, he decided to hold what peace he could find within the confines of his soul. It was hard, saddening, infuriating and sort of humiliating to have to turn to one of his citizens for an outlet of his fear of the world that only he and she in this entire district probably knew of, but it made him feel like a millennium of endless, sleepless nights were over. A new, lighter weight was upon Grover Cleveland: fatigue. All he could ever want now was to sleep, and see if the morning sun would be heralded for truth, instead of just another night of sitting next to Aldai, encouraging him to continue reading the facts of the matter over and over again as a painful reality-check.

Throughout this entire relay, Naomi stood in stunned silence as the man unloosened the facts unknown. It was a harsh wake-up call, as well as a frightening one that almost certainly could change everything. Suddenly, the world that was already cold as the snow became that of a corpse, detached from warmth except for the physical sense of heat. Brooding. _Evil._ She managed to summon a question, any question at all, to try and solidify the President's revelation. "When did this start? The plotting, the treachery."

Grover leaned back, moving through his thoughts to find a proper answer. "I would say that they started right before the war with Mexico, during the birth of Manifest Destiny. There were so many inquiries into why in the world the British Emprie went to war with us in eighteen-twelve with almost a disciplinary conviction in their actions that did not shadow that of a conqueror, but of a harsh teacher. We have made sure that future generations will see it as a stalemate at worst, that the whole issue was over the impressments of American sailors into the British Navy. " He cleared his throat at the listing of 'facts' that would become so, if only after a few handy modifications to choice novels, notes, and so on. "It came out to 'status quo ante bellum', officially; no one gained, no one lost."

The wording of his sentence caused the Director to lean forward to help him press on. "And unofficially?"

"Unofficially, Miss Alders, we had lost overwhelmingly. Impressment was only partially ended, our trade embargo against the warring powers was ended out of economic starvation, and the capital was still burned down to the ground. Absolutely no one will admit it, but Jacksons' army at New Orleans was _the_ only one standing in the way of our nation's demise. If they had wanted to, they could've marched right in and taken us back as colonies, state by state. The one thing that managed to save us in the end was the treaty, which publicly stated the status quo would be ensured from before the war. Behind the scenes, however, war was declared on behalf of the fact that we refused to collaborate with the Catholic Church on the Address of Pius. Without its approval, the entire continent and its people would be open to those, those…" He shook his head in awe: _Survival by utter defeat. It has a nice ring to it, once you boiled down to it._

"Should this meeting exist, Mr. Cleveland?" This turned into a cautious affair for the Spanish-American, whom was only learning truths about the country she loved as well as the Order she served. The chilling warning would have to be reported, because there was no possible way or reason a president of an isolationist country would be able to attend to the Pope, or be represented amongst the European powers, whom all secretly agreed to the Address of Pius all those decades ago when it was formed. All of them, even the then-invasive and ambitious Ottoman Empire, agreed to allow Exorcists of the clandestine Black Order to travel through their territory freely to exorcize the Akuma, the demons that plagued society that were not in the daily newspapers, government documents or the school books of the world. Now, the Russian's Tsar was demanding a massive scale-back of the Black Order's powers, being even less loyal to the Address than the Muslim Sultan, who actually encouraged further empowerment of the Catholic Black Order instead. Quite ironic, really.

Grover's few moments to think were over, with him saying "As President, I will deny this breech of diplomatic isolation t oever exist. As a friend to your Order in person, I will make it known as truth if it were to mean your friends survival." With a few steps to the door, the portly man re-opened this squalid room to the world. "Please have a good day, ma'am."

"Thank you, Mister President."


End file.
